


SAFE

by Dalet



Series: Grace's Last Reward [1]
Category: Supernatural, Zero Escape
Genre: Animated GIFs, Fanart, M/M, Music, Mystery, Screenshots, Visual Novel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 00:05:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15036260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalet/pseuds/Dalet
Summary: 9 strangersawaken aboard a ship out to sea.9 hoursremain until the ship sinks into its depths.9 doorsstand between them and their survival.What is the[Nonary Game]? Why have they been gathered here? Who is the mastermind behind their ordeal, the person who calls themself[Zero]?And can it possibly be coincidence that Balthazar and Castiel have reunited here at last?If they wish to have their answers, then together they mustseek a way out.Seek a door that carries a 9.(SPNx999 visual novel)





	1. Third Class Cabin

**Author's Note:**

> *****FOR THE BEST READING EXPERIENCE*****
> 
> It is **highly recommended** to read this fic on **desktop** and in **widescreen.** Some sections will not look their best at other resolutions.
> 
> This fic is extremely **image heavy.** It is recommended to scroll instead of page down to avoid spoilers. 
> 
> ♫ are background music tracks. **CTRL/CMD + click** to open a in a new tab/window.
> 
>  **Content Warning:** There are images of blood and several violent deaths throughout the story, starting in Ch. 1. The deaths take place **offscreen** and are not described in detail, but may be considered disturbing.
> 
>  **Thank you for reading,** and hopefully my GIFs have finished loading by now. :)

 

 

There was a thunderous noise.

Balthazar awoke with a start

           “OW _OW_ God _damn_ it--!”

and heard a _*CRACK*_ as his head collided with the low ceiling.

Falling back against the pillow, he wondered where the _hell_ he was that he deserved such a rude awakening.

Balthazar rolled over, and, in his still-fatigued clumsiness, tumbled off the top of what was, in fact, a three-level bunk bed.

_“Fuck_ me…”

No longer tired, at least, Balthazar shook his head, wiping away a few tears with his jacket sleeve as he groaned in pain. He tried to stand, but the room was shaking far too much; as his head cleared of fog, it was replaced by the oppressive sound of roaring air.

_An earthquake?!_

No, the tremors were too fast for any earthquake, but Balthazar didn’t know what else it could be. He threw an arm up against the bottom bunk to hold himself steady, waiting for the rumbling to end.

Even when it did, his brain was left feeling rattled. Trembling slightly, he pushed himself uneasily to his feet and began to examine the thoroughly uninviting room.

It was...stark, first and foremost, coloured mainly in the grey and beige tones of faded, peeling paint.

There was a second bunk bed opposite the one Balthazar had fallen off, but “bed” was a generous way to describe what was little more than piping and paper-thin mattresses.

To his left were a small, utilitarian table positioned just underneath a round, glass window, like the porthole of a ship,

and a closet nestled behind an antique stove, complete with rusty kettle.

To his right was little but an imposing metal door, roughly emblazoned, in red paint, with the number 5.

Balthazar stared at it.

There was a box attached to the wall next to it, something like an early 20th century card reader, as if such a thing even existed. The paint was just about the only colour in the room, and it looked fresh.

“What...?”

He stalked over and grabbed the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Balthazar threw his weight against first it, then the door itself, pounding several times.

“HEY! _HE--”_

His voice cut out when he noticed it.

“What the _hell...”_

On Balthazar’s left wrist was something that looked like a watch, mainly red in colour, with a large LCD display in the middle. Rather than the time, it showed only a single digit.

_Five? That’s the same as the door, but why? What is this?_

He flipped his wrist over as though to remove a simple watch, but the bracelet’s steel ring was solid all the way around.

With a grunt, Balthazar slammed his wrist against the door again, once, twice, three times…

Nothing.

He clicked the buttons on the sides.

Still nothing.

Once more he slammed his fist into the door, fury momentarily masking the pain. Balthazar rubbed his slightly achy wrist and snarled.

As he did, a low groan, like angry metal waking from a deep sleep, sounded from somewhere far away. It took Balthazar a moment to place the sound, then he frowned, taking another good look at his surroundings.

_Is this--_

__

_Is this a ship?_

He stalked over to the porthole and peered through. There was only deep, inky blackness, and Balthazar was about to hit the damn thing when he heard the first crackle. He pulled back, shaking his head in disbelief..

“Oh, you _must_ be joking-”

[♫](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CcjRNUU4yNlRfWDQ)

The porthole burst open, releasing a torrent of water into the room that hammered down onto the table, submerging the benches on either side as it washed over the floor, rapidly gaining on Balthazar’s ankles.

He _laughed,_ dry, bitter huffs of air. Then he tore across the room and pounded frantically on the door.

“HEY! Your fucking trap’s _broken!_ The whole place is fucking flooding! OPEN THE _GODDAMN DOOR!”_

Balthazar whirled around, leaning heavily against the door and panting as panic gripped his chest. Icy seawater lapped tauntingly at his shins.

Maybe…

           Maybe he had to _get_ out.

But... how?

There was a slim, blue briefcase laying neatly on a bottom bunk, he noticed suddenly.

He shook it desperately, and heard something like paper shuffle around inside, but the case was locked. Instinctively, he patted his pockets, to no avail. Nor did tossing around the bunk beds’ pillows reveal any keys.

To the right of the infernal porthole was a narrow closet. Balthazar threw it open to find another briefcase, this one red, but no keys.

“I’m twice as trapped now, aren’t I?” he snapped, turning frustratedly on his heel.

To the left of the door was a full-length mirror. Balthazar threw up the cover

and taped to its surface, he noticed gleefully, was a small, red key. He tore it off, squeezing it in a death grip. As he raised his head, he caught his own reflection.

           ...

                      ...right?

 

Balthazar hardly recognized himself; he looked ragged. His cheeks were pale and hollow, his gaze utterly worn out, deep bags hanging under his eyes. Judging by his appearance, he’d just come back from the dead.

 _What_ **_happened_ ** _to me…?_ he wondered, and as he did a hatch seemed to open in his mind, releasing a memory that he quickly snatched up.

 

* * *

 

_It was close to midnight as Balthazar unlocked the door to apartment 201, the plain, one-room affair he’d occupied since entering university a little over two years earlier. Balthazar flicked the lights on before he even tugged out his earbuds, and it wasn’t until he’d removed his scarf as well that he noticed something amiss._

__

_The breeze. Balthazar was entirely sure he hadn’t left the window open, and he hurried, tired and unthinking, to close it._

_He caught the other person’s reflection straightaway, and whirled around, his body seizing up in terror._

__

_Standing before him, in the middle of the room, was a person in a deep, hooded cloak of black canvas material, and a haunting gas mask that covered every last inch of their face. Balthazar summoned his courage and took a harsh step toward the intruder, but his legs collapsed under him and he slumped down against the wall, unable even to call for help._

_The masked intruder said nothing, and in the silence Balthazar finally noticed the hissing coming from his left. His vision already blurring, his mind rapidly numbing, Balthazar could only stare at the canister blasting white smoke into his apartment at an alarming rate._

__

_“Consider this a privilege.”_

_Balthazar barely registered the words, and the voice told him nothing; it was cold and electronic, distorted._

_“You have been chosen. You are going to participate in a game. The Nonary Game. It is a game…_

_… where you will put your life on the line.”_

 

* * *

 

Balthazar gaped at his own reflection. He felt nauseous, his stomach twisted like he’d just been punched. _A game. A God damned_ **_game_**. Was this it, the “Nonary Game”? Being left to drown?

He wanted to scream, or maybe cry, but the wet, biting cold against the backs of his knees said he had to move, _now._ Red key in hand, Balthazar turned and launched himself through the water, back towards the red suitcase.

It took three goes to get the tiny key into the tinier hole, but it clicked. Balthazar slammed it open and stared at the contents.

Three red cards, each with a single number boldly printed on the front: 1, 2, and 3.

_Cards…?_

_The card reader!_

__

__

He tore back across the room, almost dropping the cards in his haste to slide them through the reader.

He yanked the lever down, hoping to God for the best.

The card reader blared at him loudly, universal electronica for _“NO!”_ Balthazar turned and sloshed his way back towards the blue briefcase, intending to break the damn thing open.

Instead, he stomped past it and seized the kettle. Balthazar was learning fast; it was just the place to hide a little--

_\--key! Yes!_

__

__

The second briefcase did not disappoint. Balthazar shoved three more key cards - blue, numbered 6, 7, and 8 - into his pocket and flipped through the notebook laying atop them

__

It was mostly blank, like a journal, with a pen and calculator stuffed inside, but there was a brief note on the front page.

 

> [Digital Root]
> 
> To compute a digital root, first add the numbers in question to each other. If the result is greater than a single digit, repeat step one. The final single-digit number is the digital root.
> 
>            Ex. 678
> 
>            6 + 7 + 8 = 21
> 
>            2 + 1 = 3
> 
> Therefore, the digital root of 678 is 3.

 

“Then…” Balthazar half-staggered back to the door. He couldn’t run anymore; the water was too deep. “Do I need...a digital root of five?”

There was no 5 card, but…

1 + 6 + 7 = 14

1 + 4 = 5

He threw the lever

and the light switched instantly from “you’re going to drown” red to “taste of freedom” blue.

Balthazar shot out of the door, the force of the water sending him straight into the opposite wall. He pushed himself upright and quickly looked around the long, narrow hallway in which he stood.

One side seemed to go on forever, but the other ended, no more than 50 feet away, in a short flight of stairs topped with…

           ...another door!

Balthazar rushed towards it; it wasn’t locked. He leapt through the door, into the next room, and skidded to a wetly noisy halt.

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4Ca2VIVVFyalVqLU0)

The cavernous hall in which he found himself was a world apart from the cabin he’d just escaped. In the centre of the room, clearly connected to the decks above and below, was an ornate, gilded staircase of finely polished wood with gold, art nouveau embellishments.

He wondered, for a long, slack-jawed moment, if he was really on a ship after all, and then it clicked. Balthazar had _seen_ this room before...

           ...in photographs of the _Titanic._

 _No, this couldn’t possibly be…_ He thought, turning back to the hallway.

Perhaps not, but it was a dead accurate replica.

Fresh streams of seawater poured out of the cabin door, piling on top of each other as they rushed down the corridor.

Immense waves, almost reaching the ceiling, were headed straight for Balthazar’s delicate head.

His feet made loud, slapping _splacks_ as he tore across the room and up the stairs, taking them four at a time. He passed plaques for C Deck...

...and B Deck...

...and was halfway to the next one when he froze.

On the stairs above Balthazar, to his left, were four people; to his right, three more. All seven gaped at him, and he stared back, until one finally broke the spell and bounded down, pausing one step above him.

“Another one,” they seemed to sigh. They were young, around Balthazar’s age, and dressed in a way he liked to call “student chic”: a sharp, grey blazer over a deep navy vest and off-white collared dress shirt, slim blue jeans rolled up just above the ankle, and, Balthazar had to admit, much nicer hair than his own. Richly brown, it was lightly curled and stopped just below the **student** ’s shoulders.

The Student’s eyes flicked back up once at the other six people, and then they were off, down the stairs back towards B Deck. One by one, the others seemed to shake free of their momentary spell, and followed.

The second person to pass Balthazar looked just old enough to be the Student’s parent, or perhaps their **boss**. Another brunette, their hair was pulled back into a neat bun; if they’d been through anything like the ordeal Balthazar had just had, neither their hair nor their crisp, grey suit were any worse for wear.

“There’s no point going further up. The doors on A Deck are locked,” the Boss noted. “We’re checking B Deck now.” Their stiletto heels clicked on the steps as they hurried downward.

One-by-one, the others dashed past Balthazar to follow the Student and the Boss. Only one more paused in front of Balthazar on their way down. Well, two people, really, walking hand-in-hand.

The second of them, paused a couple steps further down, regarded Balthazar **sternly** , with some disdain, or perhaps suspicion. Like him, they were dressed to be out in November, a blue-grey, military-style coat with a white ruff over a neatly pressed pair of jeans.

“That’s all nine of us, then,” murmured the one closest to him, with a small smile. They wore a white sundress that reached just past their knees, and matching white slip-on shoes. Their blond hair, a little longer and darker than their companion’s, fell freely over their shoulders in soft waves. Balthazar wasn’t sure why, but their eyes were closed, giving them a serene appearance, like a sleeping **angel**.

The Stern one made a brief noise of assent at the Angel’s comment, and gently tugged them onward.

 _Nine?_ Balthazar was sure he’d counted right, and there were only eight people, himself included. Slowly, he descended the steps back into the wide hall. He hadn’t noticed in his upwards rush, but there were two enormous, metal doors set into the wall opposite the lavish staircase.

Sprawled on the surface of each door, in shockingly bright, red paint, were numbers:

Five...

...and four, respectively.

The Student had grabbed one of Door 5’s handles and was straining with all their might. An older person, broad-shouldered, bald, and much taller than the Student, tapped them gently on the shoulder, and they pulled together for several long moments, with no reward save the sounds of metal being strained. The larger one backed up several steps, and threw themself at the door,

 

_*BAM!*_

once, twice, three times, to no avail. Finally, they stood up, straightened their expensive-looking dark **suit** , complete with pocket handkerchief, and muttered something to the Student that Balthazar couldn’t hear. The Student kicked the door in frustration.

Next to them, the Boss was examining a rather fascinating point on the wall. Balthazar approached the three, and spotted the object of interest. Just beside the door, bolted to the wall, was a box very much like the card reader in the cabin back on D Deck.

There was no slot for a card, however, but rather a large, circular panel in the middle of the device, large enough to fit a hand. Nor was the bar at the top of the device blank, as the card reader’s had been, instead displaying the word “VACANT” in vivid green text.

Balthazar looked across the hall. Four people - Stern, the Angel, and two others - were examining Door 4 and a seemingly identical device next to it. Was every door in the ship bolted this way? Balthazar recalled the Boss’ words on the stairs, about the doors on A Deck, and turned back towards the staircase.

He hadn’t even taken a step up before he froze again.

There _was_ a ninth person, standing near the top of the stairs. About Balthazar’s age, they wore a long, fitted beige knit sweater, and a pair of purple-black leggings with faint, gold star designs.

Like Balthazar, they looked raggedly tired, their dark brown hair mussed as badly as his own.

But Balthazar hardly noticed any of that. He could only stare at the stranger’s face, as they did the same to him, tugging nervously at their dark blue shawl.

There was something hauntingly, achingly familiar about the young person on the stairs.

Slowly, he climbed the steps until they were face-to-face. The closer Balthazar got, the more he was so _certain_ he knew this person, from somewhere… He scrambled desperately inside his own brain for the answer.

“I’m sorry,” he started uncomfortably, “have we m--”

“...Balthazar?”

Balthazar’s eyes snapped open wide with surprise. The stranger, who had been regarding him closely, head tilted curiously, straightened up and smiled.

“It _is_ you,” they sighed with happiness. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Oh my God…” Balthazar murmured in shock. Yes, now he knew. He could _never_ forget that smile. “Cassie, it’s _you.”_

Castiel smiled brightly at him. Balthazar could hardly believe it; Castiel was his best friend, they’d been through all of elementary school together. But after sixth grade, Cass had moved away, and Balthazar had not heard from him since.

Until today.

Slowly, bitterly, Balthazar began to laugh, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

"You know, I've been praying _all_ these years I would see you again," he said. "This must be God _personally_ kicking my ass for the noise."

A soft smile tugged at Cass' lips, then quickly turned wry.

"Well," he shrugged, "you might be able to take it up with God before too long."

Balthazar stopped laughing.

"No, Cass, listen-" He took both of Cass' hands in his own and leaned in close. "You and me, we _will_ make it out of here alive, no matter  _what_ this is. I _promise."_

Cass hesitated, a hint of reproach in his eyes, but his smile slowly returned, and he nodded.

Balthazar smiled back. "Then we can take it up with God _together."_

"But..." Cass turned his head, looking off down the stairs. “What about everyone else?”

Balthazar chuckled, affectionately rueful.

“You haven’t changed one iota,” he chided. “It’s just like you to ruin the moment thinking of other people.”

Cass cocked his head, perhaps amused, or about to protest, when a deep, ominous rumble shook the ship, almost sending Balthazar down the staircase. Cass quickly caught his wrist, his free arm wound around the railing.

“Th-thanks-” Balthazar trembled slightly as he righted himself, and the two of them hurried down into the hall, where the other seven people had gathered together apprehensively. No sooner had Balthazar and Castiel caught up to them than the air filled with the hard crackle of radio static, and a cold, electronic voice filled the room.

_“Welcome aboard.”_

Several people, Balthazar included, shivered visibly. Frantically, they searched for the source of the noise.

It was a speaker, set in a corner of the ceiling.

_“I welcome you all from the bottom of my heart, to this, my vessel._

_“I am Zero, the captain of this ship.”_

There was something dreadfully familiar about the voice.

_“I am also the person who invited you here.”_

With an awful, twisting feeling in his stomach, Balthazar suddenly remembered it.

It was the figure in the gas mask, and he was clearly not the only person to make the connection. Others gave a start, murmuring to themselves in shock. Castiel stared intently at the speaker, arms crossed as he tugged at his sleeves.

“Why don’t you come out here?” Foolishly, Balthazar thought, the Student stepped forward, calling out to the “captain.” “I’d like to get a look at you.”

“What do you mean to do to us?” Another person spoke up. Alone of all nine people, their face was smoothly calm, and they carried themself with an easy, almost noble confidence. Like the Boss and the Suit, they were much older than Balthazar, their close-cropped, jet black hair lightly streaked with grey.

_“I mean to have you participate in a game. The Nonary Game._

_“It is a game where you will put your life on the line.”_

“That’s--!”

Balthazar wasn’t sure who shouted, but it was clear he wasn’t the only one who recognized that terrifying proposition. Zero continued.

_“The rules of the Nonary Game can be found upon your persons. They are simple rules._

_“Read them.”_

“Ah!” This time, Balthazar knew it was Cass who’d spoken. “There’s something in my pocket!”

His hand was deep inside his sweater, and he pulled out a folded, somewhat crumpled piece of paper.

The others, including Balthazar, followed suit. He’d thought his pockets had been emptied, and he didn’t seem to be the only one surprised.

“Would you mind reading them for us?” The same older person who’d spoken up asked Castiel. Given the situation, their implacable calm was both comforting and a little unnerving. Their stony face reminded Balthazar of a **statue**. “Just to be sure we all have the same information.”

Cass nodded, and began to read.

“‘On this ship, you will find doors emblazoned with numbers. We will call them the numbered doors. The doors in front of you are a pair of the same. The key to opening these doors are the numbered bracelets that each of you possess.’”

 _Numbered bracelet,_ Balthazar thought, had to mean the flashy object on his wrist.

“‘Should you total the numbers on your bracelets,’” Cass continued, “‘and find that the digital root is equal to the number of that door, the door will open. Only those who have opened the door may pass through.’

“‘There are, however, limits. Only 3 - 5 people can pass through one numbered door. All those who enter must leave, and all who enter must contribute.’

“‘The purpose of the game is simple. Leave this ship alive. It is hidden, but an exit can be found.’

“‘Seek a way out.’

“‘Seek a door that carries a 9.’”

Castiel wasn’t the only one who looked slightly shaken as he lowered the paper and carefully folded it, tucking it back into his sweater. A few people tried to speak up, but Zero had not quite finished.

_"There is one last thing I must tell you._

_“As you have no doubt surmised, this ship has begun to sink. On April 14th, 1912, the famous ocean liner_ Titanic _crashed into an iceberg. After remaining afloat for 2 hours and 40 minutes, it sank beneath the waters of the North Atlantic._  
  
_“I will give you more time._  
_  
_ _“Nine hours. That is the time you will be given to make your escape.”_

Undoubtedly on cue, a clock began to chime from far away.

No, not too far, they quickly noticed. The sound echoed out from an antique clock set in the middle of the central staircase. No one so much as breathed, desperate not to miscount the tolling.

7…

 

                                                       8…

 

9...

 

and not one more.

 _Nine o’clock, then,_ Balthazar nodded to himself. Given the darkness he’d seen through the porthole, it was no doubt nine o’clock at night.

_“Now, it is time. Let our game begin._

_“I wish you all the best of luck.”_

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CcUp3cWo4ek5tNzQ)

With that, the speaker went silent. For several long moments, the room remained the same way.

“I refuse,” the Boss spoke up suddenly. All heads turned to them. “I’m not going through those ‘numbered doors’. I refuse to jump when this _‘Zero’_ says so.” They waved their hand derisively towards the speaker.

“Where else is there to go?” Stern wasn’t the only one who seemed to disagree.

“Why don’t we find out?” asked the Statue. “We haven’t truly examined this place yet, after all. There might be some other way out of this cage.”

They parted hopefully…  

...but the faces that returned fifteen minutes later were downcast and worn.

_“Everything’s_ bolted down.” The Student crossed their arms in frustration. “Every window, most doors, even... _that.”_

They pointed upwards, at an enormous dome cut into the ceiling. Whatever it once had been, it was now filled in with the same metal that covered all the windows.

“We’re also stuck between the A and C Decks,” the Angel spoke next. “D Deck is completely submerged; however…”

Balthazar and Castiel had gone first to explore the lower decks with the Suit, Stern, and the Angel.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” the Angel had said, drawing their hand across the glassy surface of the water that reached halfway up the stairs to C Deck, “if Zero's somehow sealed a watertight hole in the hull.”

“So, without being _too_ optimistic,” the Statue mused after the Angel had reported their findings, “we can trust that Zero _is_ in control of when this ship sinks.”

The Angel nodded, and the Statue turned to back to the Student. “You said _most_ doors were bolted?”

“Those doors on A Deck are still _locked_ , but not bolted,” the Student explained. “The left one has a keyhole with... _something_ engraved on it. A circle with two lines inside, one across, one down.” They drew a vertical and a horizontal line in the air with their finger.

“That sounds like the Earth symbol.” Castiel spoke up. “It’s an astrological symbol. The horizontal line represents the equator, and the vertical one the prime meridian.”

He paused to take in the looks of confusion, then continued. “We found two of them on C Deck:

“the sun symbol on another keyhole,”

“and the Saturn symbol on a card reader by the elevators.”

There were a pair of elevators near the central staircase on C Deck. Balthazar had pressed the call button, not expecting much and thus not being surprised when the doors did not open.

“So the only doors we have…” Stern began cautiously, “are those?” They jerked their head towards the numbered doors.

“If no one’s hiding any keys, yes, that would seem to be our situation,” Balthazar answered.

“Regardless, I’m _still_ against going through,” the Boss spoke up again. “I refuse to play this so-called ‘game’.”

Balthazar couldn’t see any alternatives, but he understood why several of the others nodded in agreement. The ones left, however, protested.

“So what, we sit and wait?” the Student demanded of the Boss. The Suit spoke up more calmly.

“This _is_ a passenger liner. For something this big to be floating, or sinking, undisturbed means we’re pretty far out to sea. The chances of anyone finding us, breaking in, and getting us out in…” they glanced at the clock, “eight and a half hours is _very_ slim indeed.”

“Unless, of course, we’re actually in a secure government facility,” they added with a chuckle, “in which case, no one will _ever_ find us.”

Not a single other person seemed to share the joke. Some appeared to think it over, others simply looked terrified.

“Do you really think so?” the Student asked. “That this is some...government project?”

“Maybe a psychological experiment?” wondered the Angel.

“It does seem unlikely,” the Statue chimed in, “that one person would have the funds to put all this together. More likely, Zero is the representative of some organization...government or otherwise,” they added with an easy, yet bitter, smile.

“I certainly wasn’t going to suggest we stay here and do _nothing,”_ the Boss crossed their arms. “We should exchange information.”

“What kind of information?” asked Stern. Before the Boss could answer, the Suit “ah”ed knowingly.

“Right, you connect the dots between your victims,” they explained, “and that leads you to the culprit. Textbook deduction.”

“You two, for example,” the Boss, picking up their train of thought, gestured to Balthazar and Castiel. “You know each other?”

They shared a glance, Balthazar giving a small, nonchalant shrug.

“Yes, Balthazar and I were childhood friends,” Castiel replied, a hint of happy nostalgia in his voice.. “We...haven’t seen each other in years, but we went through grade school toge--”

“Now hold on,” the Suit interjected, calmly but with authority. _“Don’t_ start telling us things we didn’t ask you about.”

“You _did_ ask,” Cass protested. The Suit shook their head.

“Sure, there may be...some of us who know each other,” they swept their hand in the direction of Stern and the Angel, “but we can’t say for sure how much _Zero_ knows. If we give them enough information, they could go after our families, use them to force us to behave.”

“Oh…” Cass’ face fell momentarily, but he quickly looked back up, “--but, we have to exchange _some_ information. Names, for example. What will we call each other?”

“Why not pick code names?” the Suit answered, as though they’d already had the idea. “You could call me…” they thought it over for a moment, “Seven. And ‘he’, by the way.”

“Why ‘Seven’?” asked the Boss.

“Take a guess,” answered the Suit, or ‘Seven’ now, holding out his left arm. His numbered bracelet read, not surprisingly, 7.

“Good plan,” said the Student enthusiastically. “You can call me ‘Santa’, then. Any of you speak Japanese? Well, ‘san’ means ‘three’.”

They threw out their left arm, a 3 on the bracelet display. “So, ‘Santa’, like Santa Claus. And ‘she’.”

“If Santa chooses puns, I choose cards,” the Statue spoke up next, raising their arm, “My number is one, so I would appreciate if you would call me ‘Ace’, and ‘he’.”

“I choose anime,” said the Angel proudly, stretching out their arm. “My number is two, so you can call me ‘Duo’, and ‘she’.”

“Mine is four,” added Stern, smiling gently as they held out their arm,  “so I guess that makes me Quatre, and ‘she’.”

“Call me ‘Lotus’, and ‘she’.” The Boss raised their arm, showing off an 8. “The divine flower has eight petals.”

All eyes turned to Balthazar and Castiel.

“My number is five,” said Balthazar, showing off his bracelet. “You can call me--”

“‘Balthazar’,” the Boss, Lotus, interjected, then waved a hand at Balthazar’s frown. “We already know your name, is what I mean.”

“That’s my fault,” Cass looked stricken. “So I’ll give my name, too.”

“Why, because it’s not fair to your old friend?” Seven, the Suit’s, voice was gently teasing.

“It’s still a bad idea,” added Duo, the Angel, with nods of agreement from the others.

Castiel stubbornly squared his shoulders; Balthazar thought fast.

“What’s your number, darling?” he asked softly.

“...six.” Castiel pulled back the sleeve of his sweater to reveal his bracelet.

“Then why don’t we call you ‘June’?” Balthazar smiled, and Cass couldn’t help smiling back, murmuring the word fondly under his breath.

“The sixth month of the year,” Balthazar explained to the room at large. “And is ‘he’ still all right?”

“It’s fine,” Cass nodded.

Balthazar ran over the players one more time in his head.

[1] was Ace, the Statue.

 

[2] was Duo, the Angel.

 

[3] was Santa, the Student.

 

[4] was Quatre, the Stern one.

 

[5] was Balthazar’s own number.

 

[6] was Castiel, whom Balthazar had codenamed “June.”

 

[7] was Seven, the Suit.

 

[8] was Lotus, the Boss.

It took Balthazar - and the rest - a moment to realize, but that still left one person. He’d hardly noticed them, hanging back as they had by Door 4 with Duo, Quatre, and Ace. Nor had he heard them say a word since.

The ninth player blinked nervously at the sudden attention, their restless eyes sliding from person to person. Their greying, bird’s nest hair stood up all over, and they were clearly sweating under their moss brown, knitted cardigan.

Quatre, standing closest to them, leaned in slightly.

“You’re 9, right?” she asked.

“W-what do you think?” they snapped at her, although they did extend a rather shaky arm to prove their point.

Quatre was unamused. “Then what’s your code name?” she snapped back, arms crossed.

“I don’t n-need a--c-code name,” Number Nine stammered, albeit with a strange sort of confidence. Quatre raised an eyebrow.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not going to s-stay here...with the rest of y-you…”

There was something ever-so-slightly ominous in Number Nine’s tone, and Balthazar tensed himself. Seven and Lotus, at least, seemed to feel similarly.

“What’s your plan, then?” Quatre looked cautious.

Number Nine’s bloodshot eyes flicked over to rest on her. “You...s-sure you want to k-know?”

“Wha--” Quatre tensed, and tried to step back, but Number Nine moved like a snake.

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4Cckg0THVHTGJ0Tlk)

In an instant they had a fistful of Quatre’s hair in their hand and had wrenched her closer with surprising strength. Quatre shouted and grabbed Number Nine’s wrist--

           --then froze...as did the others.

Number Nine’s hand had been, for a split-second, in their pocket, and had come back out with a knife, which was now pressed to Quatre’s neck.

“Quatre--! Are you all right?!” Duo called out to her, stepping closer until she was stopped by Seven’s heavy hand on her shoulder.

“I’m-- _fine--”_ Quatre ground the words out between her teeth, glaring down at the knife.

“How is killing her going to get you out of here?” Seven asked, his voice rumbling out in a forced calm.

“I’m not _going_ to kill her,” Number Nine shot back. Any trace of nervosity had vanished from their face; in its place was a hint of a cruel, self-satisfied smile. “Not if she _and_ the rest of you do _exactly_ as I say.”

Glancing over their shoulder, Number Nine began slowly to move backwards, dragging Quatre with them. The others edged forward, at a snail’s pace out of caution. It quickly became clear that Number Nine was headed for Door 5.

No, Balthazar realized, not the door, the device _next_ to the door.

“Verify,” Number Nine spat out when they’d reached their destination.

“Do _what?"_ Quatre spat back again.

“Your left, look on your left,” Number Nine snapped. “You see the device? You see the scanner panel in the middle?”

Quatre nodded once, twice.

“Put your hand, your _left_ hand, on the panel, now!”

“The hell I will!”

“I don’t need _you_ , you know.” Number Nine insisted, their tone menacing enough to give Balthazar a chill. “I just need your bracelet.”

Quatre glanced over at Duo and seemed to consider obeying. For the first time, she, too, looked frightened. Slowly, Quatre stretched out her left arm and pressed her hand quickly, briefly, on the panel.

There was a single _*beep*,_ and an asterisk took the place of the “VACANT” text on the bar.

“Good! Good, now, _you!”_ Number Nine jerked their head at Ace. “Number 1, right? You next, verify!”

“All right, all right…” Ace raised both hands halfway as he walked, agonizingly slowly, towards the device.

A second asterisk appeared as he placed his palm on the scanner, and he backed away, just as slowly and placatingly, to the rest of the group.

“Thank God you’re all so cooperative,” Number Nine smiled as they slapped their own hand on the scanner and pulled the lever at its side, letting go of Quatre’s hair for no more than a split-second to do so.

The number 5 doors groaned open automatically, and Nine dragged Quatre in between them, her body between theirs and the others’.

“Let her go _now!”_ Santa shot at Number Nine, taking a harsh step forward, only to have Quatre thrown against her. The others barreled forward as soon as she was out of Number Nine’s grip, but it was too late; the doors swung shut.

“So long!” Number Nine called out, with a grin and a sarcastic wave of their hand. Balthazar grabbed one door handle, Seven the other, and they pulled with all their strength, but it was no use. It was as if the doors had never been opened.

“Look at this,” murmured Lotus, peering at the verification device, or what Number Nine, strangely knowledgeable, had called the “scanner panel.”

In place of “VACANT”, or of asterisks, the bar above the panel now read “ENGAGED” in dark red text. Curiously, Balthazar placed his own palm on the panel, but there was no reaction.

“Does anyone else hear that?” Duo, after helping Quatre to stand, stood with her head cocked towards the doors.

“Hear what?” asked Balthazar, obviously speaking for the others.

“That...beeping,” Duo answered slowly. “It’s coming from the other side.”

They gathered in close and pressed their ears to the doors. Sure enough, there was a steady, electronic beeping coming from somewhere within. A few seconds later, there was more.

                       _“Fuck! Oh, fuck, why isn’t it working?!”_

It was Number Nine’s voice. They were pounding on something as they shouted, sounding desperate. The others sprang back when Nine suddenly hammered on the inside of the doors.

                      “Please!! _Please!_ Help me! _Let me out!!”_

The beeping sound had drawn closer as well, as though it were attached to Number Nine themself.

Quatre, Balthazar, and Seven all scoffed at Nine’s plea, but Castiel hurried to press his palm to the scanner. Lotus followed, but still the screen remained unchanged.

“It’s not working!” Cass called through the doors.

                       _"Fuck!_ Oh no, oh God--listen to me! I was tricked! I was murdered! It was--”

_*BANG!*_

 

They all ducked on instinct, but soon realized there was no danger. In the silence, a single, cold _*beep*_ caught their attention.

The device by the door read “VACANT” once more.

“The beeping stopped,” Duo observed calmly. Quatre gave a small, derisive snort.

“Let’s open it,” Lotus ordered.

“Why?” asked Balthazar. “I think we can make an educated guess as to the result.”

“That’s _awful…”_ Castiel murmured.

“We don’t have a choice,” Seven pointed out. “If we want to move on, not everyone can go through Door 4. Those are the rules.”

“‘Only 3 - 5 people can pass through one numbered door’,” Santa intoned from memory. “So...is that why they died?”

“We don’t know that they’re dead!” Castiel insisted. He set his jaw. “Let’s...yes, let’s open it. We have to be sure.”

Seven shrugged amicably. Lotus nodded and pressed her palm to the device. Balthazar sighed, and approached the scanner as well. Two asterisks now occupied the bar.

“Mm… Ace, would you be so kind?” Balthazar asked after running a quick mental calculation.

1 + 5 + 8 = 14

1 + 4 = 5

Ace sighed as well, but offered up his hand. Balthazar pulled the lever, and the doors swung open once again.

There was blood everywhere, but the smell hit them hardest...at least until they caught sight of the body.

...or what was left of it.

“Oh...God,” Santa breathed from behind her hand. “They _blew up.”_

The others variously groaned or nodded, sighing with relief when the doors swung shut.

Balthazar turned quickly to Castiel, just in time to see him sway on his feet and begin to fall.

 _“June--!”_ As he, with Santa's help, lowered Castiel to the floor, it became clear that it was not the gruesome sight that had knocked him down.

“June, you’re _burning_ up,” Santa said, shocked.

Balthazar touched both Cass’ cheeks, and his forehead. He wasn’t just hot; he felt like he’d stepped out of an incinerator.

“Can you stand?” Balthazar whispered.

Castiel nodded weakly, and together Balthazar and Santa helped him to one of the chairs that lined the walls below the central staircase. Cass put his face in his hands, and Balthazar couldn’t tell if he was having trouble breathing, or crying.

“I can’t _believe_ you still want to go through with this!” Lotus shot at Seven. “After what just happened!”

Seven opened his mouth to answer, but Balthazar cut in first.

“Before we come to _that_ decision, there’s something _else_ we need to do.”

He paused as the others turned to him cautiously.

“I need to ask: do _any_ of you know _anything_ about this ‘Zero’? Or the Nonary Game? Any ideas _at all?”_

There was total silence...for a moment.

“I- I _saw_ Zero,” murmured Santa, staring at her feet.

“Sort of,” she clarified, looking up at the stunned faces. “Not their _face,_ I mean, when I was grabbed there was--”

“A person in a gas mask?!” Quatre cut in, eyes wide. Santa stared back at her.

“Yes! And white smoke, from some kind of gas grenade?”

Everybody nodded, and began to speak at once, a blur of noise.

Their stories quickly became clear: every one of them had been kidnapped from their homes, just after midnight, by a stranger in a mask who’d used a gas grenade to incapacitate them, telling them they’d been “chosen” to participate in a “game.”

They’d woken up on D Deck, in a third class cabin, and solved the puzzle of the numbered door to escape.

One story in particular caught Balthazar’s attention.

“You two were taken from _and_ woke up in the same room?” he asked Duo and Quatre, the only other pair with some apparent connection outside of the Nonary Game. “Why?”

“Because we live together,” Duo answered, sounding almost smug. “We’re sisters.” Quatre merely nodded.

“Sisters...and childhood friends,” Seven rubbed his chin and motioned at Balthazar and Castiel, who lifted his head to nod.

Balthazar laid a hand on Cass’ shoulder, meanwhile wracking his brain for answers. Had he ever met Duo and Quatre? Had they, perhaps, attended the same elementary school? Could Zero be a former classmate? A teacher? ...A disgruntled janitor, maybe?

The pensive silence was interrupted by the clock bell tolling.

8…

 

                                                       9…

10.

A whole hour had passed since Zero’s announcement. Only eight remained before they sunk.

“So what’s left?” Santa crossed her arms, looking them over. “You all know the answer. We _have_ to move on. We’ve lost a whole hour already.”

They all stared at the clock, as though begging it for just one more hour, _please._ Even Lotus, seeing the time spent, seemed reluctant to argue.

“How do we protect ourselves?” she asked nonetheless. “Can it really be as simple as ‘3 - 5 people in each door’?”

“Pretty much,” Duo chimed in.

“You seem refreshingly confident,” said Ace. “Care to enlighten us?”

“Certainly.”

Quatre reached into her pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a stiff sheet of paper, handing it to her sister. The others’ dove automatically into their own pockets, but it seemed they were at Duo’s mercy.

“What… why do you have that?” Balthazar couldn’t help himself.

“Because Zero is kinda patronizing,” she answered crisply, holding the card up.

“You see?”

The pun was rather on the nose; the double-sided card was written entirely in braille.

No one but Balthazar seemed surprised; information he’d missed being late to the party, apparently.

“Yes, I...see,” he answered, stifling a smile. Duo nodded and began to read, her fingers gliding smoothly over the words.

“‘Bracelet number 2, since you are not blessed with sight’,” Duo scoffed lightly, “‘I shall bless you - and only you - with information. I shall tell you of the function of the RED, of the DEAD, and of the bracelet.’

“‘The RED is the Recognition Device. It will verify your number. Beside every numbered door, you will find a RED.’

“‘The DEAD is the Deactivation Device. It does exactly what it says. Once you have passed through the numbered door, you must use the DEAD to stop the detonator in your bracelet.’  
  
“‘But perhaps you are wondering, what does this detonator detonate? I am afraid this may be something of a surprise.’  
  
“‘I have placed a small bomb inside of you, and the people whom you are about to meet. You swallowed it while you were unconscious. I have no doubt that by the time you read this note, the bomb will have passed your stomach and found its way to your small intestine. In other words, you will be unable to regurgitate it. I suggest you do not try.’  
  
“‘As I mentioned, the bracelet on your left hand contains a detonator. Think of it as a remote fuse, or timer, for the bomb in your body. There is only one condition which will cause it to detonate. That condition is that you enter a numbered door.’  
  
“‘Once you have done so, the timer will activate. You will have 81 seconds. If, after that time, the detonator has not been deactivated, it will send a signal to the bomb in your body, instructing it to explode. In order to deactivate the detonator, every person who verified their number at the RED must also verify their numbers at the DEAD.’

“‘Once all numbers have been verified by the DEAD, you need only pull the lever at its side, and the countdown will cease. Anyone who does not verify their number at the RED will find themselves unable to verify their number at the DEAD.’

“‘That is to say, if you should pass through a numbered door without first verifying your number at the RED, in 81 seconds you will be dead.’

“‘You must also keep in mind that the numbered doors will close automatically after 9 seconds have passed. So long as the door is open, the DEAD will not function.’

“‘Lastly, let us discuss how to remove the bracelets. There are only two ways to do so.’

“‘One: you escape from this ship.’

“‘Two: your heart rate reaches zero.’

“‘In other words, once the bracelet is taken outside the confines of the ship, or detects that its wearer's heartbeat has fallen to zero, it will shut down automatically. There is no other way to remove your bracelet. If you attempt to force it off, or disable the detonator, the bomb within you will immediately explode.’

“‘This is all the information which I can impart to you. How you choose to use it is for you to decide. If used wisely, you can eliminate those who might be a danger to you. For a time, you would be able to control your fate.’

“‘I wish you the best of luck.’”

With that, Quatre took the card back and tucked it into her coat.

“Then, Nine died...” Santa broke the silence, ”because they broke the rules?”

“So it would seem.” Duo tilted her head thoughtfully. The others variously stared at their wrists, or gingerly touched their fronts.

Balthazar’s stomach felt hollow; there was a _bomb_ inside him, and it would detonate at the mere whim of the ungainly _thing_ clamped over his wrist. It was judge, jury, and executioner.

“Fine!” Lotus snapped, her face pale but her tone definitive. “I give in. We’ll open the doors. But you realize we’ll have to split up. How do we decide? Is anyone even willing to go through Door 5?”

A single, deep sigh pierced the silence that followed; it was Seven. He rubbed the back of his bald head in slight irritation.

“I’ll go through Door 5, but I can’t go in alone. Anybody else?”

“I’ll go with you,” Duo offered, sounding fairly unperturbed. Of course, she would be immune to the sight of the body, but the _smell_ alone…

“Then I’m going as well,” Quatre added.

“That’s still not enough,” said Seven.

2 + 4 + 7 = 13

1 + 3 = 4

“We still need…” His eyes swept over the remaining players. “Ace?”

Ace merely shrugged. “And I only just bought these shoes. Very well, then.”

“It’s perfect,” said Lotus happily, gesturing to those left over. “We make a digital root of four.”

3 + 5 + 6 + 8 = 22

2 + 2 = 4

Balthazar wondered, was that really the best plan for him? Going through Door 4 with Castiel, and simply trying to forget what lay behind Door 5? As the others nodded their agreement, Balthazar gave Cass’ shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Ah, June?” the code name swirled uncomfortably in his mouth. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I’m all better…” Cass smiled as he stood. His voice was still soft, even weak, but when he looked at Balthazar, his eyes were clear. Balthazar pressed a hand to his forehead nonetheless.

“Yes, you’re...much cooler.” Perhaps it _was_ the shock of seeing the corpse, or what was left of it, that had spiked Cass’ temperature, but Balthazar couldn’t be sure.

“I’m relieved,” Lotus added, “and I don’t mean to be rude, but if you’re up to it, we should move on. Now.”

Cass nodded to her.

They started first towards Door 5, Ace, Duo, Quatre, and Seven in the lead.

“Wait!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are only moderated to avoid future chapter spoilers. Any feedback is **hugely** appreciated! You can leave comments here or [**on my blog.**](https://everymeloveseveryyou.tumblr.com/ask)


	2. Door 5

The others turned to look at Balthazar, who squared his shoulders and crossed his arms in response to the confused, and somewhat irritated, looks.

“I’m going through Door 5,” he stated.

“Oh, you _‘are’?”_ Quatre scoffed at him.

“Yes, and so am I,” Cass added quickly. Balthazar turned to him and leaned closer, grateful for the distance between them and the others.

“No, that’s not a good idea. You _should_ go through Door 4.”

“What?” Cass demanded. "Why?"

“Because I don’t trust anyone _but_ you,” Balthazar answered, lowering his voice even further. “I need to- ...take a closer look at the body. I can’t just forget about it, and if we split up...you can keep an eye on the other team. Who knows what’s behind these doors? More information? Clues? How will we know that they tell us everything, if we both go through Door 5? Please…”

It was mostly the truth, but Balthazar couldn’t ignore the possibility that the corpse _had_ caused Castiel’s fever, as unlikely as that seemed.

Cass tilted his head one way, then the other, stimming with his sleeves as he thought it over.

“How do you _know_ we’ll see each other again?” he asked finally, at full volume.

It was Seven who answered.

“Think about it. We have to find a number 9 door, and there are two doors here. What are the chances the next door will be 9? Seems more likely Zero wants to have their fun as long as possible. Probably the next room will have two more doors, and the next, and so on, until we’ve done all _but_ 9.”

“And each team can only make one digital root,” Duo added. “Our groups now can only go through one door each. We can’t even split 3 - 5 people in two to go through more doors. We _have_ to meet up again, or the Nonary Game ends right here.”

“...all right,” Cass let out a slightly-beaten sigh. Balthazar gave him a reassuring smile, and gently touched his arm.

“Thank you. We _will_ see each other again, and before too long.”

“You realize we’re back where we started?” Lotus interjected. “Making new teams, wasting more time?”

“No, not at all,” Balthazar waved his hand. “We merely need to substitute 5 from each group. If...Ace and Quatre go through Door 4--”

“No!” Quatre protested immediately. However, to Balthazar’s surprise, it was Duo who spoke up next.

“Wait, Quatre…” she tugged her sister aside and, just as Balthazar had done with Castiel, whispered into her ear. He could only guess she had about the same idea as him. Quatre’s frown gradually softened...if only slightly.

“Fine…” she murmured at last. Duo smiled and gave her a gentle punch to the shoulder, and Quatre reluctantly joined the other members of the new Team 4.

“I’ve even saved your shoes,” Balthazar smirked at Ace.

“I'm in your debt,” Ace answered with one of his stony, yet apparently genuine, smiles.

Despite their bravado and shrinking time limit, the group spent a long moment hesitating in front of Door 5, knowing full well what lay beyond. One-by-one, Duo, Seven, and Balthazar pressed their palms to the RED. Balthazar threw the lever, and the door groaned open.

The sickening smell almost knocked Balthazar off his feet; it was infinitely worse than the first time, and he prayed this would be the absolute last. Once his eyes found the corpse itself in the darkened hallway, all notion of cooly examining it -- for what, “evidence”? -- evaporated from his mind.

Duo, on the other hand, marched forward after only a second’s pause. Balthazar wondered, in awe and a little coldly, if she couldn’t _smell_ either. After a few paces, her shoes making soft, wet, _squelch_ ing noises in the drying blood, she half-turned back to the door.

“Are you trying to kill me?” she asked, though she was _still_ smiling. “You _know_ the door only stays open nine seconds.”

With an awkward clearing of the throat, and a shared nod with Seven, Balthazar leapt through the door. Not two seconds later, it slammed shut. They were trapped, and the clock began to tick.

Alerted by the beeping, Balthazar glanced down at his wrist, a shiver running up his spine. He remembered the sound all too well, and now a red skull, a chilling warning, had appeared behind the number 5 on the bracelet’s display.

“Where’s the DEAD?!” thundered Seven.

“Don’t ask me!” Duo answered, although she trailed a hand along the wall as she walked, clearly searching.

“Balthazar!” Seven’s voice shook him out of his daze, and Balthazar whirled around. The dimly lit hallway stretched on about thirty feet, and he began to sprint towards the other end.

“Wait! It’s here!” Once again, it was Seven’s voice calling out. Duo and Balthazar immediately turned back. As they jogged towards the double doors, Balthazar could make out the device, tucked into the corner of the hallway.

Seven had already authenticated, and Balthazar slammed his hand against the panel, followed hurriedly by Duo. Seven threw his weight down onto the lever…

 

...and the beeping stopped.

Balthazar checked his wrist to be sure.

“I-it stopped…”

“Yes…”

“Ha...haha…”

In the sudden silence, their ragged breathing and shaky laughter made it clear how terrifying the minute-long ordeal had truly been. It wasn’t until the blood in his ears stopped pounding that Balthazar even made out the other voice.

                      “Hey! _Hey!_ Everybody okay?!”

Santa’s shouts were muffled by the heavy metal doors. Someone pounded against the other side. “Hey! Come on!”

“We’re fine!” Balthazar called back, hoping he sounded more composed than he felt. “And listen! The DEAD looks just like the RED, except it’s blue!”

“It’ll probably be nearby!” Duo joined in. “Don’t go too far looking for it!”

“Great! Thanks!” He heard the others’ murmurs of gratitude, then their retreating footsteps as they headed for Door 4. Balthazar turned around, tugged his jacket to straighten it out, and took a deep breath before hurrying to join his teammates further down the hall.

                      "...good luck, Balthazar.”

The well-wishing was almost inaudible through the door. Balthazar turned back and leaned in close against the metal.

“Thank you, June,” he smiled as he answered. “I’ll see you soon.”

Balthazar waited until Cass’ soft footfalls trailed off, then turned around once more. Duo and Seven had disappeared, although it was obvious where.

Even at a distance, Balthazar could tell that the hall had been artificially shortened by an enormous metal slab, but he could also make out a single door on the left wall. He began to walk, then paused.

This was it; Cass’ lingering and his partners’ impatience had left him alone with the corpse he’d told himself he _must_ inspect. Now that he was here, though, he wasn’t sure why. What possible clue would be left undamaged by an explosion powerful enough to rip someone apart?

Of course, he couldn’t help but notice that Number Nine’s bracelet was lying, in one piece, on the floor. The number was still visible on the miraculously uncracked screen. Was it still functional, then? Balthazar wondered.

 

           ...could it still be used?

 

“Hey, CSI, you coming?”

Balthazar merely “hmph”ed in response, still staring at the bloodied bracelet, calculating the risk in making a move on it. Duo had stepped out of the door, but of course she couldn’t see him. Would she hear him crouching? Swiping the bracelet off the floor?

As rapidly as his brain was moving, he turned away after only a second. Not worth it, he thought.

Not... now.

“You were old enough for CSI?” Balthazar teased as he approached Duo. The rather ornate door was mounted with a plaque that read “1st Class.”

“My parents always had a crush on those two, uhh... Warrick and ’Nicky’,” she answered as she turned away, leading Balthazar into the cabin.

Balthazar only half-caught her words, looking all around in awe.

First class indeed!

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CUzZjWXlBdF9NQkk)

The entire living room was walled with dark, expertly polished wood, embossed with many intricate gold designs. The floor, too, was wood panelled, save an outline of cloudy blue marble that also ran along the tops of the walls. There was a real fire, crackling in a real fireplace.

Staring, perhaps slightly slack-jawed, Balthazar almost stumbled against a large, mahogany table in the center of the room.

“Balthazar?” Duo called, her hand on the knob of one of two identical doors across the room.

“...eh?”

Duo chuckled. “The exit’s in the bedroom, end of the hall. Locked, obviously. If you’re gonna stay here, at least have a look around, yeah?”

“I _am_ looking,” he insisted distractedly, earning another laugh. Duo continued on through the door, leaving Balthazar to his wonderment.

He couldn’t help himself. With no one else present, he collapsed, with a sigh of exhaustion, onto the plush, pale green sofa. When he tried to stand again, he found his legs had turned to jelly.

_Stress,_ he assured himself. He knew it was stress, the night’s events so far catching up with him, like, he could only presume, Castiel’s fever, but that didn’t make it less infuriating, or embarrassing.

_Cass..._

Nine years ago he’d moved away and vanished into thin air. “It happens,” Balthazar’s parents had assured him. Cass had simply found new friends and moved on.

Balthazar had insisted that couldn’t be true, but they didn’t want to believe him. Or perhaps they simply didn’t want to consider that something had happened to Cass.

Thank God, thought Balthazar, he finally knew Cass was safe.

...no, not quite.

He was _here._

None of them would be safe until they escaped the ship, and Balthazar would make damn sure that Cass did.

Seven’s heavy footfalls approaching the door interrupted Balthazar’s thoughts and told him to get busy. Balthazar seized the edge of the table with both hands and hauled himself to his unsteady feet, swiping up a large piece of stiff, folded paper that happened to be laying in front of him, just as Seven strode into the room.

“Anything good?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. Balthazar, leaning heavily on one arm, turned the cover towards him; it read “SCORE,” in fine, black print.

“Emptied of sheet music, I’m sure.” Balthazar tried to sound hard-working in the face of Seven’s obvious skepticism.

“Well, we’ve already found three pieces of sheet music.” He paused. “Sheets of _glass,_ that is.”

“You work fast.”

“You walk slow,” Seven smirked.

“If there’s sheet music, where’s the instrument?” Balthazar generously ignored the jab.

“We _also_ found a mangled piano in the bedroom.” Seven sounded less grim than the phrase “mangled piano” seemed to demand.

“And what happened?” Balthazar did his best to sound loftily expectant.

“Nothing yet,” Seven shrugged. “Each sheet only has one note; you have to layer them on top of each other to get a score. We’re still missing a sheet.”

He ignored Balthazar’s mock disappointment and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “See for yourself. They’re all in the bedroom down the hall.”

Balthazar nodded his thanks and excused himself, now that his legs would support his full weight.

Three single doors lined the hallway, and Balthazar opened them in order. First, there was a blessedly clean toilet,

followed by a sink and a posh bathtub, filled to the brim with uninviting, murky water,

and finally…

                      ...Duo.

Balthazar bumped into her, opening the final door just as she was exiting.

“So!” she huffed, turning back inside. “You’re the type to barge into a lady’s bedroom?”

“Never uninvited."

“Oh, _smooth.”_

She lead him past the shockingly intact piano, dark, wooden vanity,

the canopy bed, with sheets and curtains of heavy, scarlet fabric, and a small, white wood desk,

to the exit door, equally magnificent save for the electronic lock barring their way. Balthazar tugged at the handle nonetheless. It did little but rattle at him.

Balthazar sighed and turned on his heel, just then noticing another door beside the one he’d entered.

Unlike the exit, it yielded,

but not much.

The walk-in closet held several empty suitcases and an empty cupboard, on top of which, however, was a small combination safe.

“It’s not empty,” said Duo, interrupting Balthazar’s attempt to shake it. “Seven and I checked. It sounded like paper, maybe an envelope.”

She paused, musing. “...maybe a keycard for the door?”

“The door?” Balthazar tried to think. “Was there even a slot?”

“...good point,” she answered thoughtfully. “But it’s gotta have _something_ to do with our escape. Maybe once we find all the score plates, and figure out the keys...it’ll give us the combination?”

“Speaking of,” Balthazar carefully stepped around Duo, striding over to the piano.

“‘Mangled’, as Seven put it, seems an odd choice of words for this poor thing.”

“Does it?” Duo followed, carefully placing each finger of her right hand on a piano key. One-by-one, in order, she pressed down.

The keys did not, however, play in order.

“They’re…” Balthazar started.

“...mangled?” Duo offered.

“So first we find the score plates, one note at a time,” Balthazar sighed, rubbing his chin, “then we figure out how to _play_ them on a jumbled keyboard. Rather more irritating than keys and briefcases.”

“It’s only fair,” Duo shrugged, as though “fair” were at all relative to the Nonary Game. “We have three times the brainpower--”

She stopped, looking uneasy. “Do you hear that?”

“Nope.”

“Exactly. Where’s Seven?”

Balthazar’s throat was dry as they hurried back to the living room. Could Seven have preempted him? Was he in the hall with the corpse...

                      ...and the bracelet?

What if _he_ took it?

In his haste, Balthazar almost tripped over him. Seven had collapsed to his knees in front of the fireplace, clutching his head. He groaned, very faintly.

“Seven?!” Duo cautiously felt her way around Balthazar and down next to the man on the floor.

“--head’s--s-splitting open--” he rasped as Duo propped one of his arms across her shoulders. Balthazar belatedly followed suit, and together they hefted Seven as best they could towards the sofa.

“Do you remember anything?” Duo asked. “Maybe this is your brain trying to get back online?”

“Beg pardon?” Balthazar was not best pleased to find himself still out of the loop. Nor could he shake the fear that Seven _had_ beaten him to the punch, and was now trying to hide it.

“Amnesia,” Duo answered promptly, with no protest from Seven. “You weren’t there yet, but he can’t remember a thing from before he got grabbed.”

“Or so he told you,” Balthazar couldn’t help himself. Seven chuckled graciously.

“That’s exactly right,” he sighed hoarsely, rubbing his eyes and leaning back. He seemed a little less pained, at least.

“Probably a side effect of the knockout gas,” Duo added. “So you see, June’s fainting wasn’t our only medical emergency. ...Maybe _that_ was the gas, too,” she mused, before laying a gentle hand on Seven’s shoulder. “Better?”

“Enough,” he sighed, standing. “And by the way…” He pointed slowly towards the fireplace. “There’s a score plate back there.”

“Ah,” Balthazar clucked in mock surprise. “So the fire wasn’t a tender courtesy, after all.”

“No,” Duo touched her chin, “but all that bathwater might be.”

Taking the empty vase from the living room as a suitable vehicle, Balthazar knelt by the tub and shucked off his jacket, slinging it over his shoulders for its own safety as he carefully skimmed the vase across the top of the greyish, unappealing water.

“What?” Duo asked when he couldn’t suppress a small noise of distaste.

“Nothing,” he said. “The water’s just filthy. Can’t even see the bottom.”

“Filthy how?”

“Just...some kind of colouring, so far as I can tell,” Balthazar answered carefully as he concentrated, the vase almost full. “Why--”

The word wasn’t out of his mouth before Duo knelt beside him and plunged her right arm straight into the bath, all the way to the bottom.

“I _knew_ it!” she almost shouted. “There’s something in here!”

Her questing expression quickly turned to frustration.

“I can’t _get_ it with just one hand. Hey, do you think these things are waterproof?” She waved her bracelet in front of Balthazar’s nose. He sighed deeply.

“I wouldn’t risk it,” he muttered. Resigned, he set the vase on the bathroom floor and reached into the tub himself. True enough, there was something flat and slippery resting at the bottom.

“...another score plate?” he wondered aloud. Together, Balthazar and Duo hefted it carefully out of the water and headed back to the living room with their bounty.

Seven, seemingly recovered, eyed their general soppiness with some amusement.

“This one makes all four already, so... ” Duo filled him in as Balthazar, vase in arms, braced himself in front of the fire.

_3…_

_2…_

_...don’t_ ** _make_** _me fill this up again…_

 

_1…_

With a hefty splash the fire was extinguished. Seven clapped Balthazar's shoulder hard enough to jostle him before kneeling for the tedious task of extracting the plate.

“So we’ve got A’s, C’s, G’s, and F’s on this one, Seven said,” Duo nodded at the score plate in her arms, “and…?”

“Nothing,” Seven answered, standing. “This isn’t even glass.”

Balthazar leaned closer. It _was_ a score plate, but a solid, off white colour, like a blank sheet of music.

“Probably…” he thought it over, “it’s the base. All we have to do is put the notes on top.”

“And figure out that ‘mangled piano’,” Duo added.

They stood over it in the bedroom as Balthazar carefully aligned the glass sheets on top of the blank score and prepared to lay them down…

except that the stand made an odd, crinkling noise when he did so. Balthazar frowned and leaned closer.

                       _…?!_

How could he not have noticed before?

“This is a map of the ship!” he exclaimed. Seven leaned forward and snatched it up.

“Is it really?” Duo asked.

“Not the _ship,"_ Seven eyed it closely. “Just B Deck.”

“Well, that’s us, isn’t it?” With the stand now free, Balthazar set the score up properly as he spoke.

He didn’t, for the moment, protest Seven tucking the map into his own pocket. The other team was just beyond the door, and they were so very close to the end of this puzzle, he was _sure._

Balthazar played the keys one-by-one back and forth, several times, getting a feel for Zero’s trick.

“Actually...this isn’t as bad as I thought. I think I’ve…”

There were four lines of notes, four notes per line. Balthazar couldn’t help a smirk when he got it right on the first try. After all, he recognized the simple tune.

“It’s We--”

“Stand! Bow! Be seated!” Seven bellowed, chuckling to himself.

“So, you remember middle school, Seven?” Duo seemed to share the joke.

“Silly me, I thought it was Westminster,” Balthazar raised an eyebrow at the both of them.

“Well, when we find Zero, you can ask which one they meant.” Duo grinned and punched him gamely in the shoulder, then turned on her heel and headed for the door.

                      ...the door!

“Ah!” Balthazar hurried after her. The light on the door’s lock had turned a most welcome shade of green.

Beyond was a long, narrow hallway leading left, much like the one outside the third class cabin. Balthazar took a half-step forward, then stopped, looking down.

“What...are you doing, Seven?”

“What’s he doing?” Duo turned back to ask.

“He appears to be using one of the glass plates to stopper the door.”

“And why’s he doing that?”

Seven brushed off his knees as he stood. “Well, I might like to play a little piano.”

He laughed at the confused looks and raised his hands placatingly.

“It’s that safe,” he explained.

“That…-oh! We never opened the safe!” Duo slapped her palm with her fist. Balthazar supposed he should be relieved he wasn’t the only one to forget, but there was something else nagging at him…

“This doesn’t make an awful lot of sense…” he started.

“It _is_ strange we didn’t need it to solve the puzzle,” Seven cut in, “but it wasn’t empty, we know that. At least this way we can keep the door from locking again.”

“Yes, but _why?”_ Balthazar continued. “It isn’t--”

He paused for a dramatic sigh.

“Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but--it isn’t _fair.”_

“Why would Zero lock us _out_ of something we need, when we’re usually locked in _with_ it, you mean?” Duo offered, then answered herself. “Maybe it isn’t something we _need._ Maybe it’s something we’ll _want,_ like an easter egg.”

“Something like…?”

“Well, maybe we don’t _need_ it to escape the ship. Maybe it’s...a clue to Zero’s identity? Or the ‘purpose’ behind the game?”

“All I’m saying,” Seven spoke with let’s-get-on-with-this finality, “is that Zero is too meticulous to leave an odd piece out of the puzzle.” He started off down the hall, clapping both his teammates on the shoulder. “Haven’t you ever heard of Chekov’s gun?”

Balthazar couldn’t help his shame at being the only one who _didn’t_ see it.

At the end of the hall was a wider corridor, bisected by an imposing metal grate that Balthazar did not suspect they would be removing. He could see a single door and a pair of elevators on the other side.

“I suspect those are Team 4’s business,” he mused aloud.

On their own side was another hallway opposite the one they’d entered, and a set of stairs leading downwards to C Deck, blocked by another, slimmer grate, the kind that could hopefully be opened.

At its center was a lock, with another astrological symbol engraved just beside the keyhole.

“Venus, right?” asked Balthazar as Duo traced it with her finger.

“Yup. Guess that makes the key _our_ business.”

“There’s only one place to look,” Seven had unfolded the B Deck map, and held it out for Balthazar to see, his thumb tapping a large, L-shaped room right beside the stairway. “Whatever this place is, it’s the only way forward.”

The hallway held two sets of French doors, one of which was locked, and thus undoubtedly their exit. Together, Seven and Balthazar opened the other.

It shut behind them with the telltale click of a lock, although they hardly noticed.

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CS3BEdEdDdXBwQVU)

“It smells like pool tables in here,” said Duo, carefully making her way forward.

“Well, it _looks_ like a casino,” Seven answered. They laughed, as though sharing a private joke.

Balthazar craned his neck, trying to take in as much of the room as he could. They certainly had not downgraded from first class. The walls were panelled in the same luscious, polished wood as the cabin, and a soft, pale green carpet lined the floor. Chandeliers lit the room just so, reflecting off an assortment of stained glass along the left wall.

A gorgeous-looking bar sat just across from the entrance, and Balthazar made his way toward it, past a set of five square tables topped with the same green felt as, per Duo’s observation, pool tables.

“Anything good back there?” Seven called to him. Balthazar gathered his wit, but something did in fact catch his eye.

“Playing cards,” he called back. There was one, the 7 of spades, on the bar counter, and another, the 4 of spades, on the back shelf. Balthazar tucked them into his pocket and left to join his teammates by the exit door.

A simple yet bewildering contraption was posted to the wall next to it. A panel with a large number 9 covered one half; on the other were two slots, one holding an ace of spades playing card, and one empty, with the word “LOCK” emblazoned above it.

“Just a guess,” Seven waved a hand towards it almost lazily, “but we probably need an 8 to go in there. You said you found some?”

“Seven and four only,” Balthazar admitted. “And if they don’t fit here, what are they for?”

“I found five and six on the mahjong table and the fireplace,” Seven told him, “and I think I can answer that.”

Seven gestured for Balthazar to follow, leading him and Duo back towards the bar.

Nestled into the corner of the room just next to it was a quarter-circle table, with a 3 of spades laying on it that Balthazar quickly snatched up, just before he spotted a more tempting prize.

Three white outlines just the size of playing cards lay under a slim glass case holding the 8 of spades that they surely needed to escape.

“You play?” Seven asked them.

“Play which?” asked Duo as Balthazar shook his head.

“This is a baccarat table,” Seven explained. “Pretty appropriate for the Nonary Game, actually. In baccarat, you’ve got two players: the Player and the Banker. Everyone else bets on who will win. The goal is to make a stronger hand than your opponent, and nine is the strongest possible hand, with zero being the worst.”

“Yeah, that _does_ sound appropriate,” Duo grinned at Seven, who laughed, tapping the glass case.

“This eight must be the banker’s hand,” he said.

Balthazar rubbed his chin. “And we need to beat it using only three cards, then? Does baccarat use digital roots?”

“In real life, no,” Seven told him. “But here is anyone’s guess. Can’t hurt to try.”

They laid their cards - 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 - out on the table and did the math.

“Five, six, and seven together are eighteen,” said Balthazar. “Then one and eight is nine.”

But there was no reaction from the glass.

“If we had a two to go with the three and four,” said Duo, “that would be nine.”

“Then we’re missing a clue,” mused Seven.

“No,” Duo answered him, “we just skipped one, remember?”

Balthazar followed Seven’s gaze to the fireplace where he had found the 3 card.

An off-white piece of canvas hung above the mantelpiece, on top of which were a pair of lights pointed at two blocks of glass with black, abstract designs floating inside. It seemed obvious the lights were meant to project onto the canvas, and Balthazar flicked them on.

He heard something fall into the fireplace, but ignored it for the moment. The lights had projected three symbols - card suits - onto the wall: clubs, diamonds, and hearts.

_But we’ve only got spades,_ Balthazar observed as he crouched to retrieve his other prize from under the mantel.

He picked up a blue felt bag very helpfully labelled “casino coin,” and clearly full of them from the feel of it.

“Time to hit the slots,” Seven cracked his knuckles exaggeratedly and lead the way.

Seven slot machines altogether lined the walls leading to the exit door.

Each one had a heart, spade, and diamond visible in the window, with three buttons underneath.

“Diamond, heart, club, now doesn’t _that_ look familiar,” muttered Seven. “We’ll get through these faster if we split up.”

Balthazar handed each of them two coins and dropped another into the machine in front of him, when Duo abruptly slammed her fist into the machine to his left.

“It _ate_ my coin!” she protested.

“Likewise,” Seven answered from Balthazar’s right.

“I think it accepted mine,” Balthazar mumbled, staring at the machine.

“Then it sounds like we have a winner,” Seven clapped him on the shoulder. “All right, hit it.”

His confidence slightly shaken, Balthazar pressed the buttons in the order they had appeared on the canvas background - club, diamond, heart - and nearly jumped at the obnoxious _*BRRRING!*_ of victory.

The drawer below the machine popped open. As expected, it held a 2 of spades playing card, as well as a silver key with the symbol of Venus engraved on the handle.

“I daresay we’re getting the hang of these ‘games’,” Balthazar gloated, tucking the key into his pocket.

Encouraged, they returned to the baccarat table and laid the 2, 3, and 4 of spades inside the white lines.

They grabbed the 8, feeling downright triumphant, but the other cards refused to budge.

“What is this, a magnet?” Duo frowned, scraping at edges of a card with her fingernail. “I can’t even get under it anymore.”

“Just leave it,” Balthazar sighed, his victory suddenly tinged with resignation. “Let’s try the door already.”

With the card inserted, the large 9 panel slid away, revealing three more slots and another, smaller, 9 printed beneath them. Balthazar looked at their remaining cards: 5, 6, and 7, the hand they had unsuccessfully played at the baccarat table.

“We need to do it again, but we’ve lost our cards,” said Duo irritably. “Maybe there _is_ a trick to getting them back.”

“Or maybe this one takes digital roots,” Seven offered.

“It had damn well better,” Balthazar muttered as he slid in the cards.

There was a loud click from the door,

and the three of them hurried through it, back towards the locked gate, which Balthazar quickly unlocked, anticipation bubbling up inside his chest. Surely they were on the verge of reuniting with the other team.

“Onwards and downwards, right?” Duo prodded them, then started down the stairs, her hand on the railing. Of course, Balthazar remembered, she too had sent someone important through the other door.

Unlike that above, the C Deck corridor was unobstructed, and there was much to be explored, but Balthazar did not leave the stairs straight away.

He continued on down as far as possible, which was only about halfway to D Deck; in other words, the water had not risen since they’d checked it under the central staircase.

“So Zero really does have total control over the water level, then,” Duo clung carefully to the railing, wrinkling her nose at the smell of seawater.

“So it would seem,” Balthazar nodded. “Which makes me wonder: when Zero said the ship will not sink for nine hours, did they really mean the water level will not rise _at all_ for nine hours? Because that’s not quite the same as sinking.”

“With all these locked doors and gates and no lifeboats?” Duo sounded skeptical. “Same difference, I’d say.”

“Fair enough,” Balthazar huffed a small laugh, returning to C Deck proper and making his way toward the elevators across the hall.

“There’s a card reader in between them,” he noted, “just like the ones at the central stairs.”

“With Saturn on it?”

“No, still Venus,” Balthazar crossed his arms, peering at the symbol. “The horned version, apparently.”

“...oh!” Duo exclaimed after a moment’s thought. “That’s Mercury! The ‘horns’ are Hermes’ wings.” She traced the etching with her finger to be certain, and nodded confidently.

There were two paths left to search, and Seven emerged from one as Balthazar and Duo approached the stairs.

He stretched out his arm, gesturing down the long hallway behind him, lined with a boggling, seemingly endless number of doors.

“I lost track, but there are dozens of them,” Seven explained, in response to Balthazar’s bewildered expression. “I would ballpark about fifty.”

“Anything at the end?” asked Duo.

“A door,” said Seven simply, “with another astrological lock on it, not sure which.” He straightened up and offered a smile. “But my much vaunted sense of direction says it takes us back to the central hall.”

“I figured we’d go back there eventually,” Duo tapped her cheek. “I mean, there were astro locks there, too.”

Balthazar turned to check the hallway opposite,

and was pleased to see the end no less than thirty feet away.

The short hall opened onto an alcove with four sets of French doors set in the wall opposite them.

Balthazar approached the nearest set and gave the handles a gentle tug. The door was unlocked, and they stepped inside.

Duo stopped short with a noise of disgust. There was a sharp, sterile scent hanging in the air that made all of three of them nearly recoil.

“What’s _this_ place look like?” she demanded.

“A hospital…” Seven murmured. “I _think…”_

Balthazar looked around. The entire room was lined wall-to-wall with steel-grey single bedframes, and a few shelves holding downright ancient tools and medicine. The depressing colour scheme was just like that of the 3rd class cabin, down to the threadbare mattresses Balthazar almost hadn’t noticed on the beds.

And just like 3rd class, a splash of red caught his eye.

“Numbered doors,” he mumbled.

“Really? What numbers?” asked Duo.

Together, Balthazar and Seven helped Duo through the maze of bedframes, towards the back of the room.

The first door, to the far left, was painted with a 3.

The second, almost invisible between the others, had no number. Balthazar pulled at it, but it was locked all the same.

The final two doors bore a 7

and an 8, respectively. Balthazar smirked to himself, almost giddy. This was it; they could not proceed further without the other team. This was where they would meet again.

Duo felt her way to a bed and sat down, yawning. “Guess we don’t have much to do until everyone else shows up, huh?”

“I’m…” merely the tone in Seven’s voice made Balthazar’s stomach sink, “not so sure.”

He was leaning down in front of the RED by Door 8, studying it closely. It took Balthazar a moment to understand his concern.

“Oh hell…”

The display of the RED was completely blank.

“It’s supposed to say ‘vacant’ when no one’s using it, you mean,” Balthazar said to Seven, although he knew the answer. They left Duo by Door 8 and jogged along the wall to check the others, a shared glance as they returned betraying nothing good.

“They’re all broken,” Balthazar reported.

“Yeah, and not cause Zero sucks at maintenance,” Duo was prodding the base of the RED, her head tilted thoughtfully. “There’s something...like a gap on the bottom, and it feels too clean to be broken.”

Balthazar crouched down to the floor to examine the bottom of the machine.

“You’re right,” he murmured, “I think some hardware has been removed.”

He half-stood, then froze.

“Oh Lord,” he muttered, “who wants to bet those puzzle pieces are in the fifty-odd rooms down the other hall?”

“Not me,” Seven answered, looking across the room over his shoulder, “but it _will_ go faster with eight people.”

Balthazar leapt to his feet, just in time to see the hospital doors thrown open.


	3. Large Hospital Room

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CZFZPTHNmeURKbVk)

Balthazar and Castiel sat happily side-by-side as the two teams exchanged information. It seemed Cass’ group had first visited the 2nd class cabins, then emerged on the opposite side of the grate from the casino, working their way through the kitchen in order to make it to the stairs.

Interestingly, they had found a keycard with the Saturn symbol on it, yet another indication they would be back at the central staircase before the night was through.

The good cheer faded as they wound down their stories, knowing that they were stuck as long as the REDs were nonfunctional.

“There’s nowhere other than that hall we haven’t searched yet,” Seven pointed out. “If my ballpark guess was right, each of us searching six rooms should about cover it.”

“What kind of rooms are they, though?” asked Duo.

“I only opened one,” said Seven, “but it looked like a private hospital room. You know, as opposed to…”

He swept his arm across the enormous room in which they sat. Castiel followed his sweep, looking pensive.

“I’m starting to think this _isn’t_ a replica of the _Titanic,”_ he said. “It never had this kind of medical facility.”

“I think it might be the _Gigantic_ instead,” Seven answered. Cass’ face brightened at Seven’s apparent familiarity with the White Star Line family.

“Was that one like the _Titanic?”_ asked Santa. Seven nodded to her, and began to explain.

_“Titanic_ actually had two sister ships, all three of which were largely identical. One of them, the _Gigantic,_ was pressed into service as a hospital ship after World War I broke out.

“Only a year later, it struck a German mine in the Aegean sea and had to run aground to save itself from sinking.”

“And someone like Zero got it...how?” Santa crossed her arms, frowning. “Does this mean we’re being held by the UK government instead?”

Seven smiled and shrugged wanly at her, but Cass picked up the thread, his fists bunched excitedly on his lap.

“I don’t know who Zero is or how they got it, but the _Gigantic_ might have been bought by an Englishman, Lord Gordain. He was a survivor of the _Titanic_ disaster and became a collector of all things _Titanic-_ related. He _wanted_ the ship itself, but of course the wreck wouldn’t even be discovered until 1985...

“But! he did hear about her sister ship after it was out of commission, and purchased her at auction...or so the rumour goes.”

“You really think someone bought a genuine, artifact _cruise liner,”_ asked Quatre incredulously, “just to turn it into _this,_ this-- Nonary Game?”

“Yes, isn’t it _terrible?”_ Cass stiffened with outrage. Quatre gave him a strange look in return, even as her sister seemed amused.

As though to interject, a loud, familiar chime sounded from somewhere quite far away. It took a moment, but Balthazar recognized the sound:

the clock above the central stairs.

 

...10

                                                       ...11

...12.

 

It was midnight. A full third of their time had already passed.

“Does it matter?” Lotus spoke up. “We’re wasting time here. We need to divvy up the rooms out there and start searching, _now.”_

They agreed to reunite in the large hospital room when the clock chimed next. If someone located the missing parts, they were to call for the others.

Balthazar heard no such call as he searched, doing his best to be as thorough as possible without a clear sense of how much time was passing. He had only just finished his sixth assigned room when the bell tolled again, just once.

He jogged back down the hall, meeting up with Cass waiting by the double doors. When they entered, they found they were the last to arrive, with all of the others gathered tellingly by the RED in front of Door 8.

“Weren’t we supposed to signal if we found them?” asked Balthazar, a little irritably.

“So it _wasn’t_ either of you?” Lotus turned to them to ask.

Puzzled, Balthazar and Castiel looked at each other, but said nothing.

“I was the first one back after the bell,” Lotus told them, “but all three REDs were already fixed when I got here.”

“And no one called?” Cass frowned.

Balthazar couldn’t help but wonder if they were being tricked somehow. He regarded each of the others carefully as they shook their heads to say “no.”

“Hang on…” he murmured, counting one more time to be certain. “...where’s Duo?”

“That was my _next_ question,” said Lotus, scrutinizing them both again.

“We were searching our twelve rooms together,” said Quatre, her voice ever-so-slightly hoarse. “Duo checked everywhere she could reach, then moved to the next room while I finished up. But after the second room, I couldn’t find her anymore.”

She raised her eyes, watching Balthazar and Cass’ faces intently. “Did _you_ see her?”

They both shook their heads adamantly. Quatre seemed to accept the answer, her face falling as she stared at the floor.

“It’s doubtful she got lost and has wandered away by mistake,” said Ace. “I can’t say why she kept quiet, but she must have gone somewhere for a reason. We need to retrace our steps and find her as soon as possible.”

They set no time limit in their hurry, every person splitting up and rushing where they felt most certain. Balthazar took off, his face set tight, and Cass darted after him.

“You know where she is?”

“We’ll find out when we get there-”

They took the stairs to B Deck three at a time, heading past the casino and down the hall to the 1st class cabin.

Balthazar stopped abruptly and motioned for Castiel to keep quiet as he slowly opened the door Seven had stoppered.

Balthazar nearly held his breath as they crept through the rooms, finding no one. Cass waited for an explanation, glancing at him inquisitively as they moved, but could not catch his eye.

Eventually, they found themselves by the front door, leading back out to Door 5.

“Wait-” Cass spoke up just as Balthazar gripped the handle.

“Ah-- yeah,” Balthazar murmured apologetically, “you should wait here, June.”

Cass shook his head.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he sighed, frowning. “Why do you think she’s out _there?”_

“I don’t,” Balthazar seemed to surprise him. “But there might be a clue. ...you really should stay here,” he added gently.

“Nope.”

Balthazar chuckled, or tried to, and took a deep breath before pulling open the door.

It didn’t help, and they both pulled their scarves over their mouths against the rotting stench, knowing they should hurry but hardly able to move at all.

But a glance was all Balthazar needed.

He motioned Cass back into the cabin, and they fell onto the sofa to catch their breath, trying not to gag.

“D-did you f-find it?” Cass stammered, swallowing heavily as he almost choked. Balthazar nodded rapidly, keeping silent a few moments longer until their breathing evened out.

“...-that is, _no,_ I didn’t,” he said finally, “which is exactly the problem.”

“What was missing?”

“...Number Nine’s bracelet,” Balthazar frowned, staring at the wall across the room, “which was still working when we came through here, incidentally.”

“You think...Duo took it, to use it?”

“Well, I _did,”_ Balthazar’s frown deepened, and he pressed a finger to his lips. “But if so, why didn’t we run into her? Why is she still missing?”

Cass’ eyes widened, and he tensed. “Then...she caught the actual thief, and they…”

“I hope _not,”_ said Balthazar quietly, “and I don’t think...she would have done that alone. She would have called us, or at least her sister. I really...don’t know what to think.”

“But _someone_ has the 9 bracelet now…”

“And only Seven and I actually _saw_ that it was undamaged.” Balthazar honestly did not want to consider it, but he had no choice. Seven and Duo were both clever and likeable, and they seemed to get along, almost as though they knew each other.

Cass thumbed the back of his hand rapidly, staring at the floor. “--but, did you know?” he said suddenly, “that Seven is amnesiac?”

“I did,” Balthazar nodded. “You think he’s lying?”

“No- no, I mean, right now he only knows the eight of us, and he knows you and Duo best of all, so why--?” Cass bit his lip, clearly disturbed as he tried to reason it out.

Balthazar felt no differently, the frustration slowly closing on his insides like a vise. He leapt to his feet, needing to move. Cass stood unsteadily, grasping his wrist and holding his arms close to his chest. Balthazar touched his arm gently, as though Castiel couldn’t tell they both felt the same.

“We should be getting back,” Balthazar murmured, and Cass nodded tightly.

A figure at the end of the hall caught Balthazar’s eye, although he could tell it wasn’t Duo.

Lotus was standing just outside the casino exit, staring alternately at her nails and a meaningless point on the wall, her expression rather grim.

“...what are you doing?” Cass sounded unimpressed.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She looked neither startled nor pleased to see them. “I’m looking for Duo.”

“Hmm... No, I’m just not seeing it,” answered Balthazar.

“Fine.” Lotus fixed her eyes on them, her expression taking on a certain hardness.

“Let me ask you this, then,” she said, “who would _you_ leave behind?”

“Leave behind...where?” Cass frowned.

Lotus seemed disappointed with him. “Where else? On this _ship.”_

“What-?” Cass started. “No one, obviously.”

Lotus looked at him with something approaching pity, and Balthazar slowly took in her meaning.

“Don’t you remember the rules?” she asked. “Only 3 - 5 people can go through one numbered door. Zero wants us to work together, but that rule won’t change when we reach Door 9. If the eight of us now make it there, at _least_ three people will be left behind.”

“At once,” Cass interjected. “Only 3 - 5 people can go through _at once._ But the eight of us can make two teams with digital roots of 9. As soon as the RED reads ‘vacant’, the second team can go.”

“In less than five hours?” Lotus sounded entirely unconvinced.

“It’ll be faster once the first team solves the puzzles,” Cass mirrored her confident smirk. “Team two just has to run through.”

Lotus opened her mouth, but Castiel wasn’t finished.

“And as a backup plan, team one can still get help once they’ve escaped.”

_"I repeat,_ in less than five hours?” Lotus cut in angrily. “You realize we are almost certainly out to sea, don’t you? How many lifeboats do you think are out there? How do you know the exit door will even open more than once? Why would someone who made us swallow _bombs_ rig the game so everyone can get out alive?”

Lotus sighed suddenly, her expression fading into sadness.

“Would you two _kindly_ leave me alone,” she said, turning away. “I need some time to think.”

Cass didn’t seem sure how to react. Balthazar walked around him, towards the stairs, and touched his shoulder wordlessly.

“It _has_ to mean something that the eight of us can make two Team 9s,” said Castiel once they were back on C Deck.

“Which Duo would well know,” Balthazar agreed. “Without her, without any one of us, we can’t do it.”

Cass nodded, his jaw tight. “I’m sure she didn’t disappear on purpose. She wouldn’t do that to Quatre.”

“Even so-” Balthazar stopped Cass for a moment on their way back to the large hospital room, “I think we should keep quiet about the bracelet for now. If whoever took it _has_ hurt her, we don’t want to clue them in until we can name them.”

Cass nodded, and they continued on.

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CcUp3cWo4ek5tNzQ)

The hospital room seemed empty when they entered, but as they passed between the beds they could see Santa was at the back, inspecting the RED by Door 7.

She turned and threw them an inquisitive look, as if to ask _“any luck?”_

They shook their heads and lowered themselves onto the nearest bed. Santa stared at the machine a moment longer, then took a seat opposite them.

“While we wait,” she said, leaning slightly forward, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Balthazar shrugged.

“Who do _you_ think fixed the REDs?”

Balthazar and Cass looked at each other. Honestly, in his hurry to check on Number Nine’s bracelet, Balthazar had not even considered the question.

“I guess...it could still have been Duo, somehow…” Cass spoke slowly, probably thinking it over for the first time as well. Santa nodded at him and turned expectantly to Balthazar.

“I agree with June, it _could_ have been Duo, but…” he said, rubbing his chin, “I think it’s more likely it was Zero.”

“If it _was_ Zero, why did they remove the hardware in the first place, though?” Santa asked, although she didn’t seem doubtful of Balthazar’s hypothesis.

“If I’m right, then...it could only mean Duo’s disappearance was planned,” he said, rather uneasily, “or at least encouraged. Something seems...odd about Zero taking such a direct hand, though.”

“Yeah,” Santa looked away, “maybe.”

She seemed to have another theory, but simply wouldn’t say. They sat in silence until, one-by-one, the other four players gave up on their own searches and filed back into the room. Quatre, gently led by Seven, was last, and she dropped heavily onto one of the beds, staring at the floor.

“This is going to sound preposterous,” said Lotus to the others, “but if she went anywhere, the only place left is behind a numbered door.”

“You’re right,” answered Santa, “that _does_ sound preposterous.”

Lotus glanced at her sharply, but Santa only raised her eyebrows.

“I get it, we’re running out of time and we need to keep going,” she said. "That was just a tasteless way to do it.”

“I never said she went _alone,”_ Lotus countered, “or voluntarily, for that matter. I fully believe we may find her if we go through the doors, and it’s the only thing we _can_ do. However…”

“‘However’...what?” Cass seemed understandably wary of whatever Lotus was about to say.

“However...we can’t all go through,” she said slowly.

“You mean, we should leave someone behind in case Duo comes back?” asked Seven.

“No,” said Lotus, “I mean the seven of us can’t make the right digital roots, not without Duo.”

A chill passed through the group; it seemed Lotus was the only one to do the math.

_“But_ if we make two teams of three,” she quickly added, “we _can_ go through with only one person left behind.”

Cass stiffened. “That’s one person too many.”

“Are you _serious?”_ Lotus snapped. _"You're_ the one who thinks we can all get off this ship in time!”

“You don’t even have to think that far ahead,” said Seven, just as Cass opened his mouth. “We already know we’ll be backtracking as far as the central staircase. Whoever stays behind is just having a break.”

The idea didn’t seem to appeal, although Seven had probably meant it humourously.

“Yeah, but…” Santa spoke tentatively, “if we only go through two doors, we don’t _know_ we’ll find the key to get back there. Whoever stays behind...really might end up trapped here.”

“And how can we even decide who to abandon?” Cass demanded. “Take a vote, maybe?!”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Ace, who had not said a word until that moment, suddenly spoke up.

“I will stay,” he smiled at them, his serene expression just as comforting as his quiet insistence.

“...why?” Santa asked for all of them. “I mean, I’m grateful, but…”

“I agree with June,” Ace explained, with a nod to Cass. “If you hurry, there may be time to come back and rescue me. I would very much appreciate if you would do that; I have no intention of dying here.”

He made his way to a bed and sat down with a slightly weary sigh. The others, even Lotus, still seemed surprised, and unsure of what to say.

“I’m very tired, you see,” he added. “If this is really just a break, then I’m taking it. I think I’m the oldest one here, after all.”

As though to make his point, his eyes fell shut, and he slumped over onto his side. There was something quite eerie about the sudden silence, and Castiel rushed forward, shaking Ace’s shoulder and calling his name.

A soft _*clink*_ on the floor startled Balthazar; something had fallen out of Ace’s hand.

It was a glass vial, small enough to fit in Balthazar’s palm. The label read “Soporil- _β_.”

“Soporil...beta?” read Lotus over his shoulder. “...That’s an anesthetic!”

A ripple of shock passed through the group.

“O-okay, hang on-” Santa held her hands up. “That label is _much_ too new to be an antique, so…”

“So it’s _probably_ safe,” Seven offered.

“But...why?” Cass looked at all of them.

Balthazar thought first that, perhaps, Ace had lied. If there _wasn’t_ time for them to get off the ship and come back, better to drown in one’s sleep, no?

But the more likely reason quickly dawned on him.

“He didn’t want us to stand around arguing about who to ‘sacrifice’,” he said. “Now we have no choice but to move on - and quickly, if we want to repay him.”

No one disagreed. With a renewed sense of purpose, they put their heads together and sorted out their options.

“We have three,” explained Santa.

\--Plan A--

Go through Door 7 with (358), and  
go through Door 8 with (467).

\--Plan B--

Go through Door 7 with (457), and  
go through Door 8 with (368).

\--Plan C--

Go through Door 7 with (367), and  
go through Door 8 with (458).

“That’s it,” she said, “and Door 3 is right out.”

Balthazar and Cass slowly looked at each other, and Santa caught on straight away.

“I know,” she told them, “and I’m sorry, but 5 and 6, and 7 and 8, can’t go through the same door. Not in order to get all of us out.”

“And how do we choose?” asked Seven.

“Well, does it really matter who goes where?” Santa shrugged at him. “If anyone has a preference, I guess… ....Balthazar?”

Balthazar gave her a puzzled look.

“Just so you won’t argue again,” Santa almost grinned at him, and he couldn’t help a small laugh.

“Well, thank you kindly,” he stared at the page, his lips pursed. “...all right, Door 8.”

“Likewise,” said Lotus, shrugging at the curious glances. “If it helps us decide faster.”

“Sure.” Santa looked at the others. “Anybody opposed to Plan C? ...Quatre?”

Quatre seemed startled, although she barely raised her eyes, giving a quick, tiny nod. Lotus moved to her side to help her stand, and Balthazar joined them as the teams gathered together in front of their doors.


	4. Door 8

Balthazar, Lotus, and Quatre quietly scanned their hands at the RED and pulled the lever.

Cass watched him from in front of Door 7, and with a final shared nod, they both leapt through their doors.

Determinedly ignoring his wrist, Balthazar turned around, spotting the DEAD right where it had been inside Door 5. They scanned their palms again and wrenched the lever down.

Balthazar inhaled deeply and sighed. It was the second time, but the brief ordeal left his heart racing. Lotus appeared just the same, but Quatre still stared at the ground, cradling one hand in the other, her shoulders sagged.

Slowly, they made their way forward. The corridor was long and narrow, and made a number of turns as they walked. It would have been disconcerting, Balthazar thought, if the walls weren’t completely bare, but all they could do was keep moving.

Their journey ended, finally, at another set of sliding double doors, with a small plaque attached above it that Balthazar almost didn’t notice.

_“Laboratory”_

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CS3VwMkhzLU9rNnc)

Lotus glared at it and hummed, unamused.

She stepped closer and the doors slid open; Quatre walked between them wordlessly.

The large, rectangular room was split into an upper and a lower level by a quarter-circle shaped wall fitted with several windows of extremely thick glass.

Balthazar passed them, heading across the room to the opposite corner from their entrance.

Nestled into each side was a door, both with the same electronic lock mounted on them. One connected to the room’s lower section, and the other was, presumably, their exit. Balthazar jiggled both handles unsuccessfully, then shrugged and turned back.

Curiously, he approached one of the dividing windows and peered down, grimacing instantly.

Two metal tables lay side-by-side, and on top of one lay a jointed, life-sized mannequin. A set of variously thick cables ran from electrodes on its head to a control panel set in the back wall. Lotus appeared next to Balthazar and immediately left again with a faint noise of disgust, as did Balthazar upon spotting a tray of surgical tools by the other table.

Quatre, meanwhile, had walked the length of the upper room back and forth, and stepped through the dividing wall’s open door by the lab’s entrance.

The instant she did so, a vertical grate slammed shut behind her.

_“Hey!”_ Quatre grabbed the bars and yelled for the others, who rushed to the door. Together they pulled with all strength, but the grate would not budge.

“The other door-!” Balthazar shouted, pointing across the room. Quatre nodded and took off, but--

                      “It’s _locked!”_

“Shit--”

Quatre rushed back to the gate, her face ashen. Balthazar’s own expression could hardly have been comforting; he had no idea what to do.

“All right-- _wait--”_ Lotus stepped back and raised a slightly shaky hand, gesturing for them to listen. “This is obviously-- _obviously_ part of the puzzle, I mean, it fell too fast to let more than one person through, you see?”

Although clearly still frightened, Quatre nodded. As alarmed as he was, Balthazar realized it had to be true. The trap was set to split them up.

“Y-you’re right,” he nodded as well, finally starting to catch his breath. He turned back to Quatre, offering her an apologetic look. “Sorry…”

She seemed surprised. “Yeah…” She half-turned away, awkwardly descending the stairs. “I’ll let you know what I find…”

Balthazar spun around. Directly to his left was a set of eighteen personal lockers with locks on the front; the nine on the right were red, but the others were clearly open, a much needed head start. Only one, however had anything inside.

“‘Ethanol’,” Balthazar read off the label of the small, brown bottle.

_"Anhydrous_ ethanol,” Lotus corrected him, looking over his shoulder. “It’s a cleaner strong enough to use on permanent marker stains and the like,” she added in response to his inquisitive glance.

Nodding his thanks, Balthazar set it back inside the locker, leaving the door ajar as a precaution.

Immediately to their right was a low desk holding a flatscreen monitor and a keyboard and mouse, none of which reacted when prodded.

“There’s no power cable attached,” Lotus told him.

“Actually, there’s no _computer_ either,” said Balthazar after a glance under the desk.

“I believe it’s a wireless display,” Lotus offered. Balthazar hummed as though greatly impressed.

“A vintage 1912 wireless monitor!” he cooed. “Truly, the Queen of the Ocean.”

He was surprised to hear Lotus actually laugh.

The wall next to the monitor held an intimidatingly large control panel, outfitted with many levers and dials, as well as another, more rustic-looking computer screen, not a single one of which functioned.

“I don’t think this one is missing power,” Lotus observed. “Look.”

A round keyhole outlined in bright red sat next to the monitor, no doubt waiting to be activated as well. Balthazar sighed irritably.

“Not so fast,” Lotus chided him, pushing something into his hands and jerking her chin over her shoulder. “It was on the tray there.”

“Ah-!” Balthazar took the power cable and darted back to the other monitor, crouching under the table, but he only came out sighing again, pushing a hand through his hair frustratedly.

“This is a 3-pronged cable,” he said to Lotus. “One too many for the outlet.”

                      “--hey, Balthazar.”

Quatre called him softly from the barred doorway.

“There isn’t much over here,” she said. “Just this really suspicious stain on the table there. I think there’s something under it, but I only have cloths, nothing to actually clean it with.”

“Oh, hang on-” He turned around, but Lotus had heard them and headed for the lockers, bringing over the bottle of ethanol.

“Try this,” she said, handing it through the bars.

“Thanks.”

“Say, Quatre,” Balthazar turned back to her, “do any of those cables back there have a two-prong adapter?”

He held the cord up for her to see, and she left to take a look. To Balthazar’s relief, she clearly found something useful.

“Here…” Quatre handed him an adapter with entirely zero enthusiasm. “I think I need to use that control panel back there, but there’s no power.”

“There’s no power anywhere,” Balthazar sighed, “but this should at least get that monitor running. Let us know what you find on the table.”

They separated once again, and Balthazar crawled back under the computer desk with his new 2-pronged cable.

“For real this time,” he muttered. A hum from the monitor and a triumphant “aha!” from Lotus told him it had worked.

Line after line of text appeared on the screen, then suddenly faded, leaving a single word:

[PASS]

“Ah.” Balthazar stared at it, then glanced over his shoulder. “Probably we’ll find our answer under that stain Quatre’s investigating.”

He called to her from the bars, and she handed him a folded piece of paper torn from her notebook.

“...er, is this it?” Balthazar asked. She had copied a 3x3 grid, like a tic-tac-toe board, with the numbers 1 through 4 in different squares. It looked nothing like an access password.

“Yeah, that’s it. ...I’ll keep looking.”

Balthazar stared at it a few moments longer, until Lotus called to him.

“Don’t worry about it.” She had grabbed a chair and sat herself in front of the monitor. “I’ll get it.”

“You’ll hack it?” Balthazar approached, leaning curiously on the edge of the desk.

“Hmph.” Lotus scoffed lightly, cracking her knuckles and stretching her arms.

“All right,” she said, laying her hands on the keyboard. She smirked.

“Let’s kick some ass.”

Balthazar’s heart nearly stopped as Lotus began to type. Her fingers moved like lightning, the sound of the keys like machine gun fire. Streams of text poured onto the screen, the whole page full in seconds, and she just kept going.

“--w-what are you doing?” Balthazar asked before he could stop himself, quickly clamping his mouth shut lest he distract her.

“It’s called a brute-force attack,” she answered him anyway. “I’m writing a program that will test every possible combination until it finds the right one. Not the most elegant solution, but very effective.”

She missed not a single key as she spoke.

“Mm.” Balthazar nodded, but kept quiet.

                      “...Balthazar.”

He crept away and back across the room.

“You found something?”

She shook her head. “I wanted to...ask you about my sister.”

For a moment, he couldn’t imagine what she meant. “Ah… Because we went through Door 5 together?”

“Yeah,” Quatre nodded, seeming slightly relieved that he was willing to answer. “Did she...say anything odd, at all?”

“Hmm…” Balthazar touched his chin, looking aside as he thought. “...Well, she was in an oddly good mood.”

“...just a joke,” he added quickly. “She and Seven seemed to get along very well, I suppose. I wondered if they knew each other. ...Well, if she knew _him,_ at any rate; I suppose he wouldn’t remember…”

“I don’t _think_ she knows him…” Quatre murmured. “...anyway, thanks.”

She fell silent, leaning against the wall. Lotus was still typing, as fast as before. It was fascinating just listening to it, Balthazar thought, but there was no point in going back there; no doubt he would only distract her.

He looked back at Quatre, who was frowning deeply, as though she’d just heard something terrible.

“Are you all right?”

She looked up at him for a long moment, watching his face carefully.

“I just...have a really bad feeling,” she said, very slowly. “...I think something’s happened to my sister...something bad.”

“We’ll find her.”

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CSm9lX1hKOUFkM2s)

He said it right away, without even thinking, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

“How do you know?” she seemed surprised by his reassurance.

“I...don’t,” Balthazar admitted. “But it’s what I’d tell myself, if June had disappeared.”

“-oh, yeah…” Perhaps she had forgotten about the two of them, but now she nodded. Balthazar thought she looked just a little calmer.

“Can I ask you something about your sister?” he did his best to sound casual. “Just to pass the time, really.”

“Sure?” she tilted her head.

“The way she keeps her eyes closed...can she not see at all?”

“No,” Quatre shook her head. “She was born sighted, but we were all - my whole family, I mean - we were in a bad accident when she was two...and she was completely blinded. Her eyes are glass now. Prosthetics. ...and her arm.”

“Her arm?”

“Yeah, her…” Quatre touched her left shoulder. “In surgery, to save her life, they had to amputate her left arm, so it’s prosthetic, too.”

“If she’s been completely blind most of her life…” Balthazar wondered out loud, “her other senses must be exceptional.”

“Yeah, they are,” said Quatre, with an almost imperceptible smile. “Especially her hearing and sense of smell.”

“-ah, yeah, I _had_ noticed. She was the first one-...” He paused.

Duo had been the first to hear Number Nine’s bracelet, even though she hadn’t been particularly close to the door, but it was a rather cold thing to bring up now.

“Well, she _always_ seems to be the first of us to hear anything.”

Quatre smiled, her eyes slowly drifting to the floor. She may not have been happy, but there was a tinge of colour in her cheeks. Balthazar leaned against the wall, glad that the silence was no longer so heavy.

“So you heard about Seven’s amnesia?” Lotus, still typing at top speed, called to him. She wasn’t looking over, but she seemed to be expecting a response. Balthazar quietly crossed the room to join her.

“Yeah, behind Door 5,” he said. “You believe him?”

“Sure, why not,” Lotus shrugged. “I just happened to be thinking about it and this wireless monitor.”

“...together, you mean?” Balthazar had no idea what she meant. Lotus laughed softly.

“Don’t take this too seriously, I’m just trying to kill time,” she began, “but consider the idea of the human brain as a monitor, like this one, rather than a computer. You follow?”

“...possibly.”

“All right, well, imagine a researcher with no concept of a wireless network were to examine this monitor, say, asking it to calculate 1 + 1. Who’s actually doing the calculating?”

“The main computer, somewhere else.”

“Precisely, but our researcher doesn’t know that. So they start tinkering with it, poking the screen: ‘Ah yes, pressing it here causes the colours to change. And when I cut this cord, no results appear. Clearly, this machine is doing the calculations!’”

“So, theoretically...” Balthazar leaned on the table as he thought, “that’s us and our brains.”

“Sure, just theoretically,” Lotus went on. “A researcher examining parts of the brain would think to themself, ‘Stimulating this neuron cluster causes this person to see colours. And when I cut this part out, that function ceases. Clearly, human thought occurs in the human brain!’”

Lotus smirked, and shrugged. “We can’t imagine our thought processes might actually occur somewhere else, in some other ‘main body’, leaving the brain as just an output device. If you think about it, it could explain a thing like Seven’s amnesia. Maybe he hasn’t really ‘forgotten’ anything, his brain is just having trouble connecting to its source.”

“But is that main body individual, or universal?” Balthazar wondered. “It must be unique to each person, or we’d all have the same thought processes. ...Unless there are networks of individuals, like an office.”

“I thought I told you not to take it seriously,” Lotus’ answer was a little surprising regardless. “I was only killing time; but now I’m done.”

“Done?”

Lotus nodded and raised one arm high above her head. With a small flourish, she brought her finger down onto the Enter key.

The program ran in seconds, spilling more text across the screen until, suddenly, it all disappeared, leaving only a single word.

“Accepted”

Then it vanished, replaced by an odd image.

A 3x3 grid of red and green blocks sat on the screen. Lotus hit the keys, but they no longer responded.

“Your turn,” she said simply, vacating her seat and offering it to Balthazar.

_"My_ turn?” Balthazar sat down nervously. “--ah!”

He pulled Quatre’s cryptic note from his pocket and pressed the squares on the grid corresponding to those on the page.

There was a loud _*BEEP*_ and a click from their left.

Lotus pulled the newly-unlocked lockers open. As before, only one held anything at all.

Both items were clearly keys, one short and circular, the other long and engraved with a circle around two perpendicular lines.

“Wasn’t that the....Earth symbol?” he asked. “One of the ones we found by the grand staircase?”

“You’re right...” Lotus peered at it, then tucked it neatly into her pocket. “It’s no use now, but _this_ one-”

Looking quite satisfied, she marched over to the second computer and plugged the key into the red-rimmed slot.

"’Power restored to experimental device’,” read Balthazar off the screen. "’Emergency system will activate in the event of abnormal subject behavior’."

                      “Hey! That thing back here is on! Now what?!”

“Apparently, it’s looking for ‘abnormal subject behaviour’,” said Balthazar, crossing the room back to the barred door.

“Well, there’s something like a voltmeter here,” Quatre stared at it over her shoulder, “and it’s all attached to the mannequin’s head, so...”

“I say crank it up, then,” Balthazar proposed. Quatre gave him a strange look, then smiled as she turned away.

“There’s nothing _else_ to do, I guess...”

Balthazar joined Lotus by one of the windows, watching Quatre turn a plethora of knobs on the control panel with no change whatsoever. She turned to look at them uneasily.

“There’s only ‘max’ voltage left now. Is that even safe?”

“We’ve exhausted all other clues,” Lotus told her. “For what it’s worth, ‘emergency system’ probably involves an emergency unlock of the doors. That _must_ be our way out of here.”

Quatre stared at the mannequin for a long moment.

“-you say so...” she murmured, one-by-one dialing the knobs up as far as they would go.

There was a disconcerting hum, and then a spark...

\--and the mannequin’s head caught fire.

The lower room rapidly filled with smoke, an alarm sounding from all around them and covering up their terrified reactions.

_“THE DOOR! RUN!”_ Balthazar shouted, bolting for the exit. The locks had changed to green, and he pushed the right one open just as Quatre reached it, already coughing.

Together, they flew out the exit, slamming it shut behind them and hoping to God it was airtight.

They didn’t stop running until they hit a dead end, past a corner at the end of the hall. Leaning heavily against the wall, Balthazar could hardly focus until he’d gulped down enough clean air. He shared a look with Lotus and Quatre; they had to check on the fire, but what could they even do about it?

Tentatively, Balthazar stuck his head around the corner-

           “--Balthazar?”

-only to come face-to-face with a familiar, and equally stunned, group.

“So that _was_ you running,” Cass tilted his head as Lotus and Quatre emerged from behind Balthazar. “What happened?”

“Er...” Balthazar stepped past Castiel and peered down the hall. There was not a hint of smoke, nor could he hear the alarm at all. “I’ll... I’ll explain later.”

Cass did not look satisfied, but Santa interrupted him before he could insist.

“What are you all even doing here?” she asked. “We’ve only been through one room so far-- there aren’t even any numbered doors here?”

                      “Hey, everyone?”

No one had an answer, but Quatre, back around the corner, had clearly found something. She pointed them to an image on the wall...

A map of C Deck.

“Okay, look-” Quatre dragged her finger along the map as she spoke. “If this is Door 7...”

“...and this is Door 8...”

“...then our only other option...”

They gathered in front of the door by the corner, their only way forward.

“But, um...wasn’t this door locked earlier?” Santa touched it hesitantly, looking at the others and getting only confusion in return. She tugged at the handle, and the door creaked open an inch.

Hardly enthusiastic, they pulled it open the rest of the way...

...and found themselves back in a _very_ familiar room.

 

* * *

 

[♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CcUp3cWo4ek5tNzQ)

“I see...” Ace sighed deeply and dragged a hand over his face. “So you went through the laboratory and the operating room, and then came right back here.”

He chuckled, somewhat groggily. “I feel a little silly over my grand gesture. I didn’t think I’d be ‘rescued’ quite so soon.”

With a groan, he pushed himself to his feet and clapped his hands together, an amiable smile back on his face.

“Where to next, then?”

“I’m not sure...” said Lotus uneasily, reaching into her pocket.

“We found this,” she explained, holding out the Earth key, “but if we can’t get back to the central stairs...”

“Not so fast,” Seven, too, reached into his suit jacket for a key.

“Jupiter was the symbol at the end of the long hall, so here we go.”

The mood in the room lifted noticeably.

“Don’t forget the Saturn keycard for the elevators,” added Cass.

“Now we have two doors to open by the grand stairs.”

“Let’s get moving,” said Santa, leading the way. “We don’t even know how much time we’ve lost.”

They made for the exit -

_*SLAM!*_

\- only to be startled by a metallic crash behind them.

Quatre was seething, her eyes tearing up. She jerked her arm behind her, pointing at Door 3.

“Where the _fuck_ are you going?!” she yelled, absolutely furious. “You _promised_ me my sister was behind one of these doors! _Well?!”_

They all shifted guiltily on their heels. Balthazar felt quite ashamed. He had passed the time asking Quatre about her sister, only to forget her completely at the first sign forward.

“You’re absolutely right,” Ace stepped forward first, raising his hands. “We can’t leave Door 3 unexplored. And now that I’ve had a nice, long rest, it’s about time I did my share. Seven...”

He turned to the rest of the group. “...would you be so kind?”

1 + 4 + 7 = 12

1 + 2 = 3

“...Right,” Seven nodded after a moment’s thought and slowly made his way toward the numbered door.

Quatre wiped her eyes with her jacket sleeve, still trembling angrily, and followed. The hastily assembled Team 3 scanned their bracelets and disappeared through the door.

“Well, as you were saying,” Lotus watched them go, then turned to Santa, “let’s get moving. We might find something useful behind those doors before the others get back.”

Conscious of their time limit, they jogged down the long hall full of doors until they reached the end, where Seven had found the Jupiter keyhole...

...and emerged exactly where his much vaunted sense of direction had predicted they would.

“All right, I say we split up here,” Lotus announced, holding the Saturn keycard out to Balthazar. “You and June can take the elevators; Santa and I will take the door.”

Without knowing what lay ahead, they set a 20-minute limit on their initial search. As Santa and Lotus disappeared up to A Deck, Balthazar and Cass turned to the elevators they had found so many hours ago.

In a single motion, Balthazar slid the card through the reader, pulled the lever, and hit the call button. A motor began to whir from far below them, and in less than a minute, the doors pulled open.

“Wait!” Cass grabbed Balthazar’s arm, pulling him back from the door.

“W-what’s wrong?”

Cass had not protested until this moment, yet he seemed surprised at Balthazar’s confusion.

“This elevator only goes _down,”_ he insisted. “That’s what’s wrong.”

It took Balthazar a moment to catch on, and a sudden chill passed through him.

They were on C Deck, with everything below them completely submerged...

...yet the elevators only went down.

Balthazar took a half-step forward, leaning over the threshold of the elevator doors and scrutinizing every inch.

“It’s totally dry inside...” he murmured.

“So?” Cass was unconvinced. “That just means the shaft is watertight.”

“True, but...” Balthazar rubbed his chin, “if we’re _meant_ to go further down...then perhaps it’s not ‘everything below C Deck’ that’s underwater...”

“--but _only_ D Deck?” Cass eyed the elevator suspiciously. “I mean, I guess so, but...”

“I’ve got it!” Balthazar reached around the lift door. There were only two buttons, C and E, and he hit the latter, quickly moving back outside as the doors closed.

“This way we’ll _know_ the doors opened down there,” he said quietly, as he and Cass pressed their ears to the grate. They heard a faint _*ping*,_ and the unmistakable sound of the doors grinding open.

Castiel hit the call button again, and they leapt out of the way as the lift returned...just in case.

“...it’s bone dry,” Balthazar observed, craning his neck to peer inside. Cass frowned deeply at it nonetheless.

“Why don’t you stay here?” Balthazar offered, touching Cass’ arm. “Worse comes to worst, you can avenge my death.”

Cass looked rather appalled.

“Why don’t _you_ stay here?” he countered, tilting his head with a smirk. “At least I’d be buried on an _Olympic-_ class ocean liner.”

“Fair enough,” Balthazar conceded with a smile as he stepped onto the lift. Cass followed quickly, and hit the button.

“You know,” he murmured thoughtfully as the doors closed, “if the shaft _is_ watertight, then it must be airtight, too.”

Balthazar’s stomach did a small, determined flip.

The two-deck ride seemed interminably long as he considered any possible way they might have been tricked into drowning themselves. His hand twitched nervously, but Castiel took it and held on tight.

The doors slid open.

There was no flood, and yet they hesitated, peeking around the corner as though the seawater might be lying in wait.

Finally, they exhaled.

“You see?” Balthazar chuckled breathlessly as they slowly emerged onto E Deck. “Not a drop of water in sight.”

“No, there’s plenty of water,” Cass corrected him, slowly raising his eyes and pointing to the ceiling, “...riiiight above our heads.”

“Tell me something,” slightly flushed, Balthazar smiled at him, “is this you in a _good,_ or a bad mood?”

Castiel smiled sweetly back, but declined to answer.

The way to their left was blocked by a massive grate like that on B Deck, the kind that would not be moved. Balthazar poked his head around the corner to their right.

A long hall stretched out beyond, but with a clear, and very telling, end in view. Balthazar and Cass jogged forward quickly. They could see the number 6 painted on the door ahead, but after the broken REDs in the hospital room, they had to be certain they could proceed.

They breathed a long sigh of relief as they pulled up in front of the blessedly functional device.

“I guess this time we’ll be split up onto different floors,” Cass observed. “Unless Santa and Lotus somehow got down here from the door on A Deck.”

“Maybe we can check for ourselves.” Something had caught Balthazar’s eye as he turned to Cass. There was another framed map on the wall by Door 6, but as they approached, Balthazar could see that a large chunk had been burned away.

Gingerly, they tugged it out of the frame. Cass pointed to one spot.

“I _think_ this is us right now,” he said, “but I have no idea what other routes there are.”

“We only get one deck per map,” Balthazar grumbled. With considerable effort, he folded it just enough to fit into his jacket and followed Cass back towards the elevator.

“June, hang on-” he touched Cass’ arm, slowing them down.

“Hm?”

Balthazar lowered his voice, “Did your fever ever come back?”

“-oh, uhh...” Cass quickly brushed his hair behind his ear. “No. It didn't.”

Balthazar blinked, then laughed stiffly, crossing his arms. "Never grew out of your _terrible_ lying, I see."

Cass shot him an indignant look.

_"Anyways,_ I'm better _now,"_ he announced, stepping closer. "See?"

That much was at least obvious, to be fair, although Balthazar reached up to feel Cass' cheek nonetheless.

"All right," he said, forcing a casual smile. "Let's get back upstairs."

 

* * *

 

“Door 1 is on A Deck...” Balthazar mused as the four players made their way back down the long hall on C Deck. “Then we’re only missing Doors 2 and 9.”

“I suspect something past Door 3 will lead us to 2,” said Lotus, “leaving _only_ 9.”

“Right...”

They were getting closer to the end. If Duo was not found, Balthazar knew - no, even if she _was,_ they were rapidly headed for disaster.

           Who, indeed, would be left behind?

To their surprise, as they hadn’t been gone long, Team 3 was already waiting for them in the central hospital room. Quatre and Ace were hunched over on two beds, while Seven shifted slowly from foot to foot, his head hanging low.

They barely looked up as the other four entered.

“You...didn’t find her?” Santa asked hesitantly, as though worried the answer might be worse.

Indeed, from their silence, that seemed to be just the case.

“Duo is...” Ace began, then stopped, covering his face with one hand.

“Duo is dead,” Seven finished for him, “just like Number Nine.”

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CLWpSQWNUNC1ZWjQ)

_"Just_ like--” Santa’s eyes went wide. All four of them were frozen. Balthazar bit his lip, forcing himself to breathe.

“I propped the exit doors open,” Seven went on, jerking his thumb back toward the numberless door. “Just in case.”

_"Why_ would--?!” Lotus sounded appalled, stopping short as Balthazar walked past her. When Cass and Santa followed, she hesitated, but joined them nonetheless.

Balthazar stopped them just outside the door.

“No, June, you should stay here,” he insisted. “Please.”

Cass glared at the suggestion, and Balthazar could not protest.

Back in the familiar hall, they spotted the Door 3 exit quick enough, stoppered as it was with the handle of a broom.

Balthazar’s stomach lurched as they entered; the smell was unmistakable. They shuddered, huddled together, and slowly followed the bloodstains around a partition.

“--oh-- _god--”_ Lotus clapped a hand over her mouth. Balthazar could not breathe at all, gripping the edge of the partition as his head swam.

What was left of the corpse could only be Duo. Unlike Number Nine, her bracelet had broken on impact, the cracked screen showing no number, but even beneath the sea of blood they could make out patches of her blonde hair and white sundress, gleaming white like the bones of her ribs and left arm still visible under the red.

Balthazar was the last to turn away, his mouth dry as sand and the silence roaring in his ears. He approached Cass, leaning against a wall and hugging his stomach, and touched his arm. Cass wrapped his arms tightly around Balthazar’s neck, and Balthazar held him close.

 

* * *

 

“It’s obvious Duo was murdered,” said Seven, pacing slowly among the beds. “Not hard to figure out how they did it, either.

“First, the killers had her authenticate at the RED, but then they pushed her in alone. Once the nine seconds were up and the door closed, it was over, but she didn’t give up.

“Duo managed to find the DEAD inside the shower room; it’s not like she had anything to lose by trying. But after 81 seconds...”

Everyone stared at the floor, a long, metallic groan from deep within the ship sounding out around them. Cass shivered, his head resting on Balthazar’s shoulder, and Balthazar rubbed his arm reassuringly.

“‘Killers’, right...” Santa spoke up, “because you need at least three people to authenticate.”

“Exactly,” Seven confirmed. “We’re looking at two perpetrators here, minimum. And if it happened while we were looking for the missing RED hardware...then none of us have alibis.”

Balthazar attempted to run the numbers in his head, to see who could’ve opened Door 3 with Duo, but he couldn’t focus, his thoughts disappearing into a haze.

“Seven, please...” Ace insisted softly, “we have nothing to gain by being suspicious of each other right now.”

“Nothing to gain?” Seven raised an eyebrow lazily. “We have a murder to solve.”

“But that’s only what Zero _wants_ us to do,” Ace swept his arm around, gesturing at the others. “You all remember Zero? The one who set up this game? Any game has a winner and a loser, and this is Zero’s attempt at making us fight _for_ that victory. We cannot let that happen, do you understand?”

Balthazar slowly looked up to find Santa already returning his gaze. She gave him the smallest of nods.

 

_“If it_ **_was_ ** _Zero, why did they remove the hardware in the first place, though?”_

_“If I’m right, then...it could only mean Duo’s disappearance was planned.”_

 

Perhaps they had been right after all.

“If that’s true,” Balthazar spoke up, “then you’re suggesting Zero is still on this ship with us.”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Ace looked at him, his eyebrows raised. “There were clues from the start. Remember Zero’s speech by the grand stairs? ‘I am Zero...the captain of this ship.’ Always _‘this_ ship’, not _‘the’_. Why? if not as a hint?”

Balthazar mulled it over quietly. A long moment passed, until the silence was broken by a voice they had not heard in quite some time.

 

                      “I think... Zero is one of us.”

 

Quatre did not look up as she spoke, her voice faint. The metal beds creaked loudly as everyone shifted, stunned.

“That certainly makes more sense than them merely observing us,” Balthazar wasn’t sure why he was so quick to agree; perhaps he still felt guilty about nearly leaving Door 3 unchecked. He glanced over at Quatre, who was watching him carefully.

“Balthazar...” Cass lifted his head, but Balthazar went on.

“Think about it,” he insisted, “think about the puzzles, or the bracelets. Everything here runs by itself. The bombs go off by themselves. Zero doesn’t _need_ to be watching us from afar.”

“Or perhaps it’s only meant to look that way,” said Ace.

“And what the hell would their motive be?” asked Lotus angrily. “Zero’s risking their life if they’re a player!”

“I don’t know,” Balthazar snapped, “and I don’t care. I’m just saying it’s _possible,_ and it certainly fits with Ace’s theory that Zero is the killer...or one of them.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Ace suddenly changed tacks, holding a hand up placatingly. “It _is_ possible, but please, Balthazar--” he softened his voice, “...Quatre, we _must_ let it go for now. Until we’ve escaped this ship, we cannot fall prey to suspicion amongst ourselves. We have to work together until then, surely...you understand?”

Balthazar and Quatre glanced at each other, but did not answer. Balthazar shrugged, and Quatre looked away.

Castiel laid his arm across Balthazar’s shoulders and met his eyes as though to ask, _“are you all right?”_ Balthazar nodded in response.

They all raised their heads as the clock in the grand hall began to chime.

 

1...

                                                        2...

3...

 

“We only have three hours left,” Lotus quickly pushed herself to her feet and stepped over to Quatre, helping her stand and looking back at the others. “We need to move."


	5. Door 6

“All right, let’s open these up.”

Balthazar knelt on the floor in front of seven folded slips of paper. They had been torn from his notebook, and each one contained a code name and a number.

In order to expedite their way forward, they had decided to vote on choice of doors, agreeing to divide into teams based on majority.

The options were as follows:

Door 1, which Santa and Lotus had found behind the Earth door on A Deck.

Door 6, as discovered by Balthazar and Castiel on E Deck.

And Door 2, all the way down on the ship’s bottom deck.

As Lotus had suspected, one more key had been found, behind Door 3: a card with the symbol of Mercury on its front.

As the Mercury-emblazoned elevators on C Deck only went down, Balthazar and Castiel had been assigned the exploration, via the “logic” that they had already gone below.

Only two buttons had been available: C and Bottom. With a grim salute to the others, Balthazar had watched the doors shut in front of him.

As before, on E Deck, the only way forward was a hallway to their right, ending in a numbered door.

“So, that’s it,” Cass had sounded almost nervous. “We’ve found every door except 9. It’s _got_ to be next.”

“Yes...” Balthazar had agreed uneasily, “but which of the three is it behind?”

 

* * *

 

Balthazar picked up the first slip of paper and unfolded it.

“Ace...” he read out loudly, “wants Door 1.”

“That’s right,” Ace nodded to him. “Should I explain why?”

“No, we don’t have time,” Balthazar shook his head and moved on. “Lotus...wants Door 2.”

“Yes.”

“Seven...also Door 2.”

“We’re in the lead,” Seven chuckled dryly.

“Quatre...wants Door 1,” Balthazar hurried through the rest. “June...wants Door 6, and...Santa, also 6. And last but not least...”

The voting had been Balthazar’s idea, and he had a plan.

A tiny pencil mark set his slip apart from the rest, and tucked into each of his jacket sleeves was another with a different door than the one he’d thrown in. He had to know how the others were voting before he made his choice.

“I want Door 6,” he announced, holding up his slip for the rest to see.

“Okaaay...” Santa tilted her head. “None of these ‘teams’ work, obviously, but... Ace, if you come with us, we can go through Door 6.”

1 + 3 + 5 + 6 = 15

1 + 5 = 6

“...then the others can go through Door 1.”

4 + 7 + 8 = 19

1 + 9 = 10

1 + 0 = 1

“That’s four people getting their vote,” Santa shrugged. “Majority, right?”

“I’m fine with it,” said Lotus. “I had no real reason for picking Door 2.”

“Likewise,” added Seven.

“Good, great-” Santa nodded at them gratefully. “...Ace?”

“Of course.” As always, he simply smiled. Balthazar had certainly not expected him to argue.

Everything had worked out as planned. His first guess of Door 6 as Cass’ choice had been correct; without switching his paper, no one was any the wiser.

Whoever the killers were, whoever or wherever Zero was, they wouldn’t be alone with Castiel. That was all that mattered.

Balthazar and Cass led Ace and Santa to the elevators behind the central stairs, and they made their way down to E Deck.

“Oh boy...” Santa rubbed her hands nervously as the others scanned theirs at the RED. “You realize once we go through here, we’re trapped, right? If Zero’s trick doesn’t hold, all that water on D Deck is coming down on our heads, and there’s no way to escape.”

“Thank you, Santa,” muttered Balthazar, his hand frozen on the lever.

“That’s what’s so cleverly perverse about this game,” Ace pointed out. “We have no choice but to trust that Zero’s drastic remodelling of the ship will hold until our nine hours are up.”

“Trust...” It was the second time Balthazar was hearing about “trusting” Zero, and the fact that he had no choice but to agree pissed him off. With the others waiting on him, he yanked the lever down, and they sprang through the door as it opened.

The DEAD was just inside, although of course it was inactive until the numbered door had locked them in. Balthazar rubbed his wrist, even after the beeping stopped, as though it were sore, and made his way down the narrow, darkened hall.

A short set of steps led to an imposing iron door with a bar for a handle. Balthazar pushed it down, and the door swung open with a scraping groan.

[♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CTllLbm1SeU0zUW8)

A gust of warm air blew into their faces. The room they were in - or perhaps _above_ \- was monstrously big, easily two stories high or more. Balthazar leaned against the catwalk railing and stared.

In the center of the room sat an enormous, domed structure, that seemed to grow ever larger as they made their way to the floor below, taking up more and more of their view.

The structure had several archways cut into it, large enough for the team to walk into, and between each arch were three furnaces, although they were empty.

“This is the steam engine room,” said Cass, staring dead ahead and looking oddly unexcited, his voice quick and clipped. “This large structure in the middle here is the boiler. Over 600 tons of coal were shovelled into these furnaces and heated 24 hours a day, so that the steam p-pressure could powertheturbineand--”

His voice cut out with a hoarse gasp as he stumbled, falling forward against the boiler.

“June--!” Balthazar managed to catch him before he hit the ground, but Cass could not quite seem to stand even with help.

Together, Balthazar and Santa set Cass down on the floor against a covered conveyor belt behind them. That his fever had returned violently was obvious; Cass’ face was bright red, his eyes wet and glassy, and he seemed to have trouble breathing. Balthazar knelt beside him and Cass hugged his knees, pressing his face against them as though to hide it.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, incredibly. No one argued, but clearly no one agreed.

“June...” Balthazar brushed Cass’ hair over his ear. “We’ll check out this floor, just for a few minutes, and then come back here for you, all right?”

_“No--”_ Castiel raised his head sharply. “I am _not_ going to sit here and do nothing!”

“Resting _isn’t_ ‘doing nothing’,” Santa countered. “Getting better is your job right now. If you force it and drop dead on us, _then_ you’ll be ‘doing nothing’.”

“We’ll check in with you as soon as we have a chance,” Balthazar promised. “Until then, please...”

Castiel didn’t answer, simply brushed his eyes with his sleeve and morosely laid his chin on his knees, hugging them tighter.

“Thank you...” Balthazar nodded and slowly stood, bracing himself against the hood of the conveyor belt.

Just beside him was a small, square door set into it, and an inviting, bright red button that did nothing when pressed.

“Ah. Well.” It was empty inside, a little less than a hand’s width deep. Three rectangular slots marked the bottom left corner.

“I suspect we’re meant to plug something in here,” murmured Ace, looking over Balthazar’s shoulder. “Presumably to activate this conveyor belt.”

“To move what?” Balthazar asked.

“Coal,” Cass answered hoarsely, clearing his throat before continuing, to no effect. “Pretty much everything in this room is for storing, moving, or burning coal.”

Balthazar glanced over his shoulder at the empty furnaces and sighed. “Why do I feel this excursion is going to involve a fair amount of manual labour?”

He met Cass’ eyes and offered a smile. “Perhaps you’re luckier than you think.”

Cass did _not_ seem to agree.

The opposite side of the boiler was laid out identically, save that each archway had an enormous gear inside.

“Garish,” Balthazar tutted. The gear in the nearest arch had been painted in vivid gold, and the others bronze and silver, respectively.

On the back wall were two sets of bare, narrow stairs, one of which lead back up to the catwalk,

and the other to a large, iron sliding door.

“Our exit, I would assume,” Ace noted, examining a boxy device next to it. There was an impression in its center like three circles overlaid triangularly.

Back on the ground, Santa was examining a pair of boxes, one of them suspended in midair. Balthazar craned his neck to look up, but the room was so large it was difficult to make out its origin.

“Since there’s two of them,” said Santa, “I’m guessing it’s a kind of pulley system. Anyway, both these boxes are empty, so I’m not sure it matters...”

“For such a large room, there isn’t much to work with,” muttered Balthazar, staring up at the catwalk. “Onwards and upwards, then. I’ll let June know; you two meet me up there.”

Castiel, thankfully, had not moved from his spot in front of the conveyor belt. He rested his head back against it, tilted slightly to watch his finger drawing on the floor.

“June...”

Cass made to stand as Balthazar approached, frowning angrily when he didn’t manage. Balthazar sat with him, a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ve found another stairway up to the catwalk,” he explained. “Anything we should know?”

Cass thought it over.

“The walkway goes all around the room, and there should be doors leading from one side of the boiler to the other as shortcuts,” he said, pointing upwards and slowly dragging his finger through the air.

Indeed, following Cass’ gaze, Balthazar could see another catwalk above them, with no stairs going directly to the floor. “Ah...that’s how it's navigated. Thank you, June.”

Cass nodded, tightlipped, but did stay seated when Balthazar stood again.

He jogged back to the stairs but stopped halfway up in front of a large panel set on the wall.

Four sliding switches, three down and one up, sat side-by-side over several columns of small lights, all but the rightmost two of which were lit green.

“Those down switches won’t budge,” Santa called to him from the catwalk. “And the right one doesn’t do anything. ...yet.”

“Presumably, it _will_ once the lights are green,” added Ace as Balthazar joined them on the landing above.

“Any idea what the lights are connected to?” Balthazar asked them, although they shook their heads. “We should ask June when we get back, then.”

“How is he?” asked Santa.

“Not worse,” Balthazar aimed for casual, even if that was the best news he could give. Both Santa and Ace seemed to accept it.

“Speaking of...” Balthazar went on, looking around them...

“According to June, this walkway circles the room with the doors as shortcuts, but we seem to be blocked off.”

The stairs to their left made it too dangerous to take the catwalk in that direction, and a stack of boxes covered the walkway to their right.

The only way forward was the middle of three doors through the boiler, an exceptionally narrow structure labelled “A”. Balthazar spun the handle and pulled it open.

“Oh, joy.” It was pitch black inside, but he could just make out the other end. In single file, with Balthazar in the lead, they edged their way through.

As they’d hoped, the way to the other doors, labelled “B” and “C,” were clear on the far side of the boiler, but the path any further along the walkway was blocked by stacks of crates.

“Is it just me,” Balthazar griped, “or are these obstacles completely pointless?”

Ace chuckled and shushed him, gesturing downwards. “Do you _want_ June to hear you in such a sour mood?”

“Ah,” Balthazar glanced down. Indeed, if they were on the other side of the room, then their catwalk would be directly above the conveyor belt where Cass was resting. Ace stretched out his hand towards an enormous cylindrical pipe in the corner to their left, that seemed to run from the ceiling to the floor below.

“If the conveyor belt were running,” he explained, “the coal would fall onto it from inside that pipe.”

“R-right...” Balthazar hadn’t noticed until that moment, but there were no handrails anywhere on the walkway. He craned his neck to see as much of the pipe as he could from the relative safety by the boiler. “There doesn’t seem to be anything to, er...do with it at the moment...”

“No,” Santa agreed, “I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to double back through the other doors for our next clue.”

She turned on her heel and made for the nearby door labelled “B,” leading the way through the dark, narrow passage.

They emerged on the other side of one of the impassable stacks of boxes.

In the corner of the room, down a section of terrifyingly open catwalk, was a hand winch. Although focused on little other than _not_ falling to his death, Balthazar reasoned it was the pulley holding the empty boxes by the exit door.

With a deep breath, Balthazar inched his way forward, followed by Santa and Ace.

He reached out for the winch wheel, but pulled back.

“Is there any _point_ when we know the boxes are empty?” he demanded.

“Probably,” Santa shrugged, half-stepping forward. “I’ll turn it. Just make sure I don’t fall.”

Balthazar moved as close as he could as Santa grabbed the wheel

...and pulled it right out of the hole.

“Uhhh...” she turned it over in her hands. “It actually just slipped out, I swear.”

Several pegs stuck out the back of the wheel, clearly meant to fit into the hole on the pulley. Balthazar leaned closer and squinted at it, then at the wheel.

“These pegs are too _small_ for this hole,” he said. “I’m not sure how it stayed in there in the first place.”

“Oh, good,” Santa sighed.

“Yes, good, another pointless obstacle,” Balthazar huffed. “Did either of you see another pulley anywhere, perhaps missing a wheel?”

Santa shook her head, but Ace stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“There was a sort of...pit at the end of the conveyor belt,” he murmured, brow furrowed. “Was there not a pulley above it? To lift the coal away?”

“At the end of the conveyor belt...” Santa turned to face the room. “That’d be in the opposite corner from here, wouldn’t it? I think...”

She began to edge her way back along the catwalk. “...we need the ‘C’ door for that.”

Balthazar’s 15-foot journey back to the “B” door was infinitely more chilling with a large, rusty wheel in hand to throw him off balance...

...and he groaned loudly when they emerged from “C” and glanced around the boiler to spot the second pulley on the other side of the room entirely. Santa gave him a rather pitying look and held her hand out for the wheel, but, embarrassed, Balthazar stubbornly shook his head.

...an action he regretted not ten seconds later.

An empty pulley did indeed await them in the corner, where the catwalk was so exposed Balthazar could see Castiel on the floor below whether he wanted to or not. It was quite a distance, but Cass was clearly still unhappy, alternately holding his knees and shifting to look around the room.

Santa, meanwhile, had taken the wheel and fitted it neatly into the slot. A box with a large, square device, something like a very old radio, hung just underneath the catwalk, and Santa twisted the wheel to pull it up.

“Wait...this thing only turns _left,”_ she noted.

“Then we’re meant to let the box down, rather than carry it back ourselves,” Ace observed.

“That’s fine-” Balthazar croaked. He braced his hands against the wall and leaned over the catwalk as far as he could.

“June!” he called. Cass looked up and spotted them immediately. “We’re letting this box down! Let us know when it’s safe on the ground, all right?”

Cass nodded eagerly, inching his way closer to the end of the conveyor belt where the box would come to rest.

Together, to keep it steady, Balthazar and Santa slowly lowered the box until Castiel could grab the device out of it. He seemed to recognize it, and turned to call back to them.

“It’s the co--” His voice gave out, and he coughed, pointing with a free arm towards the spot on the conveyor tunnel with the useless button.

“Ah-! It’s the control panel for the conveyor belt,” Balthazar finished, not looking away until Cass’ cough had faded.

“Not bad,” Santa sounded impressed, or just amused.

“We’re coming back down now!” Balthazar called below again, then made for the door across the room.

Santa hurried after him, but they both paused when Ace didn’t follow. He seemed to be watching Castiel, deep in thought.

“What is it...?” Balthazar tried not to sound suspicious.

“Oh...nothing,” Ace shrugged, rubbing his chin. “I had thought his illness was just shock, but that cough...”

“No, I think you were right,” Santa sounded very sure. “It’s got to be shock, or exhaustion. In fact, I think it’s a hell of a lot weirder we’re not _all_ freaking out instead of running around like good little lab rats.”

“Lab rats...” murmured Ace. “So you still think we’re part of some...experiment?”

Santa gave him an odd look. “You don’t? What else would it be?”

Ace didn't seem to have a ready answer. "Perhaps...some form of entertainment?"

Balthazar glanced at him and scoffed. Santa raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, what do _you_ think, Balthazar?"

"Well, come _on,"_ Balthazar insisted. "Life-or-death games as entertainment is purely fiction."

"On the other hand," he added, after a pause, "I don't believe life-or-death games are common treatment of lab rats either."

“Maybe that's _why_ they picked humans,” Santa smirked. Balthazar looked at her skeptically and she raised a hand.

“I'm just saying...whatever they’re testing here, life-or-death danger might be crucial.” She had clearly lost her audience, who gathered in closer as she explained.

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CVU5QVk5tOG1vTHM)

“There was this one experiment I read about, using a cage with two exits filled with just enough water that the rats could drown if they weren’t careful.

“Exit A was the ‘right’ one, but that half of the cage was all dark.

“Exit B was lit, but it was electrified. Which exit do you think the rats tried first?”

“B, of course,” said Ace straight away. “The rats have no way of knowing it’s electrified, correct?”

Balthazar nodded in agreement, as did Santa.

“Exactly, they all tried exit B before, eventually, finding exit A,” she said. “Not hard to guess, or very interesting. Except...

“The same lab repeated the experiment with hundreds of rats over multiple generations, with each new batch taking less and less time to pick exit A, even though the conditions were identical in every case.

“Eventually, they put a rat in the cage that took exit A without _ever_ trying exit B at all.”

“Were the rats housed together?” asked Ace. “Perhaps they were passing down instructions?”

Santa shook her head quickly. “I’m not even done,” she insisted.

“I mean, maybe you’re right, but the thing is, _other_ labs started performing the same experiment, and even though _their_ rats were in no way related to the originals, their starting times were comparable to the best times of the first lab.”

Her eyebrows raised expectantly, Santa looked them both over. “How?” she asked. “How did those unrelated rats do so well so fast?”

“I couldn’t say...” Ace looked slightly troubled, “but are you suggesting we’re part of something similar? A new ‘generation’ of the Nonary Game, maybe?”

“I have no idea,” Santa’s answer seemed to surprise, or perhaps disappoint, him. “I just remembered that story.”

She moved away, back along the catwalk, but Balthazar stopped her.

“Wait a moment,” he said. “Why did the rats have to be at risk of drowning? Why the water in the cage? You said the life-or-death danger was ‘crucial’.”

“Oh! yeah, I did,” Santa turned back to them. She stuck her hands in her pockets and gave Balthazar a curious smile. “Did you know the ‘emerge’ in ‘emergency’ has the same root as the _word_ ‘emerge’?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Balthazar admitted, “although I suppose it’s rather obvious.”

“And what ‘emerges’ in an emergency?”

“...stress?”

“Inspiration,” said Santa. “When the chips are really down, either you crack, or your mind hyper-focuses, and gives you what you need.”

“In other words...” Balthazar mused, “in an emergency, your true potential...emerges?”

“Yeah,” Santa nodded at him. “That’s the logic. That’s why the rats had to be at risk of drowning. ...If you believe it, I mean.”

“Maybe Zero believes it,” Balthazar muttered.

“It’s definitely possible,” Santa agreed, her expression darkening. She turned away once more, and the three of them carefully made their way back to the ground floor, where Cass waited for them.

He was standing, leaning against the tunnel and breathing heavily. Concerned, Balthazar jogged ahead, to see that Cass had carried the control panel from its box and fitted it into the hatch.

“You shouldn’t have...” Balthazar murmured just before the others arrived, albeit with a smile.

“So?” Cass sounded indignant as he sat down again.

The panel lit up when Balthazar hit the switch a second time, and the conveyor belt rumbled to life.

“Great...” Santa groaned. “You were right about the heavy labour.”

“At least the furnace is right here,” Balthazar sighed helplessly.

Balthazar, Santa, and Ace filled the now-empty pulley box with as much coal as it would hold, and together hefted it back and forth until the three nearest furnaces were filled.

“Did we pick up any matches?” asked Santa.

“No, but...” Ace turned to Castiel. “June, there was another control panel halfway up to the catwalk. Is that connected to the furnaces?”

“Probably,” answered Cass. “I mean, that’s what this whole room is about.”

At any rate, it was the only clue left unexplored. Balthazar jogged to the stairs.

“All the lights are green!” he called as loudly as possible while still rather winded. “Stand back! I’m hitting the switch!”

The furnace roared, and the sound of metal slowly grinding filled the air for several very long seconds, although Balthazar was rather at pains to spot the difference in the room once it had stopped.

He was halfway back to the others when he noticed.

“The gears moved!” he shouted, motioning to the arches under the boiler.

The golden gear had rotated, leaving a hollow like three circles overlapped, one of which held a gold disc etched with lines in red, blue, and black.

“The garish ones?” Santa asked as she rounded the corner.

“The very same,” Balthazar held the disc out and jerked his head to the left. “Grab the other discs and we’ll get the exit open.”

They climbed the stairs back to the door and fitted the three discs into the boxy lock device, with no results.

“Look here,” said Ace. “The red lines stand out most of all, don’t they?”

“Ah, I get it; we’ve got to match them up,” Santa nodded and turned to Balthazar. “You go get June while Ace and I solve it.”

“Right.”

Cass stood again as Balthazar approached, no doubt sensing it was time to leave.

“Before you ask,” he insisted haughtily, “I feel _much_ better.”

Balthazar laughed, holding his hand up to Cass’ forehead. He wasn’t quite down to a normal temperature, but “much better” was at least fair to say.

They made their way slowly back across the room, to find Santa seated at the base of the stairs. In one hand she held what Balthazar guessed was a photo, and was staring at it with an odd expression.

“Where did you find that?” Balthazar asked, with a slight frown.

“It’s mine,” she answered without looking up. “It was in my pocket.”

“Maybe you need it for the game,” Cass offered. Santa scoffed.

“I doubt it,” she seemed to sigh. “...it’s my brother.”

 

_“If we give them enough information, they could go after our families, use them to force us to behave.”_

 

Balthazar thought back to Seven’s warning. Leaving a photo of Santa’s family on her person hardly seemed worth scoffing over.

“You have a brother, Santa?” Cass smiled at her. Santa didn’t answer right away, her face tightening for just a second.

“...yeah,” she said slowly. “My baby brother. He was the cutest kid in the world.”

She paused again, biting her lip.

“I was his Santa Claus,” she said after a moment. Cass tilted his head curiously, but didn’t need to ask. “Our parents died when we were both really little, and everyone we stayed with thought he was...kind of weird. He just wasn’t interested in the same stuff as other kids, you know?

“So every year, I had him write a secret letter to Santa with one thing he _really_ wanted in it. I gave him some...bullshit address that always came back in a couple days, and I’d grab it out of the mailbox before anyone else saw it. Then I’d take some money I saved doing chores and get him whatever he asked for.”

 

_“Look! Look, I got it! Santa got my letter, he really did!”_

 

“One year though...” Santa’s voice slowed, and she cleared her throat, almost inaudibly, “...he didn’t ask for a book, or a toy, or anything like that...”

 

_Dear Santa,_

_I have a wish. I’m really, really happy now, and I want things to stay like this forever._

_Please make my wish come true._

 

“...but I couldn’t do it,” she said.

A sinking feeling pulled at Balthazar’s stomach. He glanced at Cass, staring at Santa. At the top of the stairs, Ace leaned against the railing, his head tilted towards them.

“He died.”

Santa broke the silence. “He was murdered. Nine years ago.”

She took a long, deep breath and sighed...then scoffed harshly.

“Some Santa I turned out to be.”

Ace politely turned away. Balthazar looked to Cass again, holding his sleeves but still staring.

“Santa...” he said softly. “Can I ask you something?”

She gazed at the picture a moment longer, then tilted her head up to him. Cass nodded.

“When your brother made that wish,” he asked, “were you happy too?”

Santa blinked, seeming surprised. “Yeah... of course I was.”

Cass nodded again. His voice was quiet, but insistent. “Your brother made that wish for both of you. I’m sure he still wants you to be happy. I hope-... I hope...someday you can forgive yourself.”

He took a half-step back, his eyes falling to the floor. “...that’s what your brother would say.”

Cass looked up, and Santa stared back at him for a very long moment. Abruptly, she broke her gaze, tucking the photo back into her pocket and standing with an exaggerated stretch.

“All right, let’s get moving,” she insisted loudly. “We’ve wasted enough time sitting around.”

She hurried up the stairs and out the open door, with the others close behind.

Not far down a narrow hall was a door just like the entrance to the steam engine room. Santa and Balthazar twisted the handle and pushed it open.

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CUmpUTEJYVHl2M28)

This time, they started at the bottom of an equally tall, but much narrower room, scattered with an assortment of wooden crates and boxes.

“Is this a cargo hold?” asked Ace, turning to Cass, who nodded.

Just to their left was a twisting, metal staircase that spiralled almost to the ceiling. On the second highest landing was another door, the only one in sight apart from the entrance. Balthazar and Santa climbed up to it for a closer look.

“It’s hard to see, but there’s a keyhole here,” Santa squinted at it, crouching to inspect the handle.

“Balthazar!” Cass called, waving him down to a short stack of crates with a small, white and brown bag tossed on top.

“This was in the bag...” Cass looked uneasy as he handed Balthazar a card.

“Hey--!” Santa grabbed it from him, glaring at it; her picture was on it, as though it were a trading card.

“Ah, you noticed,” Ace approached them, two cards in hand. “These were in the bags under the stairs.”

“Quatre,” Balthazar murmured, “and...Duo.”

They were silent for a moment, until Cass spoke up, tugging at his sleeves.

“When were these taken...?” he asked slowly. “How long has Zero been watching us...?”

“It’s just a headshot,” Santa muttered. “There isn’t a background or _any_ thing. I can’t even tell what I’m wearing.”

Balthazar glanced about the room, scattered with the small bags. One of them, no doubt, would hold his own photo...and Castiel’s. They resumed their search rather chilled.

The bags, only four in total, were exhausted soon enough, leaving them to pry open every crate and barrel within reach to find all nine cards.

Balthazar and Castiel heaved the lid off a large box to the right of the entryway, and there they were, laying eerily side by side.

Cass watched, face full of concern, as Balthazar slowly lifted the card with his own photo.

Balthazar bit back a shudder, wracking his brain for something less than completely alarmed to say.

“At least they got my good side,” he muttered, turning the card over as though it interested him only casually. It was weak, but Cass seemed relieved, leaning into the crate for his own photo.

“Well?” he held it out to Balthazar expectantly.

Balthazar blinked.

“...well?” he tilted his head. Cass frowned at him.

“Did they get _my_ good side?”

Balthazar laughed. “Oh, darling, you don’t _have_ a bad side.”

Cass smiled, satisfied.

Before long, the team regrouped with their cards in front of a set of nine green boxes just inside the entrance. Set in three rows of three, each one had a number, 1 - 9, painted on its top and an electronic lock on its front with a thin slot for a keyhole, just the width of the cards they had finished collecting.

“If only we knew how to proceed,” Ace smiled down at them sarcastically.

“Yeah, really,” Santa agreed, then abruptly pushed her cards into Balthazar’s hands. “You take care of this, I’m going to check something else out.”

She pointed at the back half of the room, sealed off by a thin, metal fence.

“There’s something other than boxes over there,” she said, “but I want a closer look.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Cass.

“Sure,” Ace agreed. “I think Balthazar and I can manage somehow.”

Balthazar huffed a small laugh, but no sooner had he knelt down than he was startled by a crash.

                      “June!”

Santa’s voice rang out from behind a tall stack of crates. Shoving his cards into Ace’s hands, Balthazar leapt to his feet and dashed to the fence.

Cass was on his feet, at least, brushing the knees of his leggings with an irritated look. His head snapped up as Balthazar rounded the corner, and he drew his shoulders back indignantly.

“I’m fine! I just tripped on these fuc--” he waved his arm at the innumerable boxes littering the room, “--...crates.”

Balthazar said nothing for a moment. Cass’ eyes were clear, to be fair, and his face was no more - or less - red than when they’d left the engine room.

“Santa saw it!” Cass insisted, assuming Balthazar was simply unconvinced. “Ask her.”

Santa looked startled to be called as a witness.

“I wasn’t exactly watching...” she started, “but...yeah, I think he did just trip.”

Cass nodded vigorously, turning back to Balthazar, who couldn’t help a relieved chuckle.

“I’m glad,” he said. “Really. But...do tell me if your fever comes back. ...please.”

Perhaps still embarrassed, Cass nodded again and quickly walked around them, back to Ace. Balthazar watched him disappear, trying, _really,_ not to be too concerned.

“Don’t worry too much,” Santa read his mind. “Once we’re out of here, I’m sure Ace can help him out if he still needs it.”

“...Ace?” Balthazar looked at her curiously. Santa waved a hand and stepped closer, lowering her voice.

“Don’t, uh...tell him I told you,” she explained quietly, “but we were talking behind Door 4 and, apparently, he’s the CEO of some company - Cradle something - that owns a hospital.”

“Anyway,” she shrugged casually, “he’s a good guy, right? After what we’ve all been through together, I doubt he’d say no. So just...try not to worry, okay?”

She smiled reassuringly, waiting for Balthazar’s response. It wasn’t much of a guarantee, he thought, but she was right about overthinking things under the circumstances. He nodded, once, and Santa jerked her thumb towards the fence behind them.

“Do you see it?” she asked.

Balthazar stepped closer and peered through. At a glance, it was merely more cargo, but as he followed the stacks upwards, his eyes caught it.

Balanced precariously on top of a crate was an odd...box? It took a moment, but Balthazar recognized the shape.

“Is that a...coffin?” he recoiled. Between it and the stalker shots, this room was becoming quite threatening. He wondered about the team behind Door 1.

“Do you think it’s a reference to Duo?” Santa asked, voice low. “I mean, if Zero did kill her...”

“If it is, Zero must have predicted we’d go through Door 3 and find her, no matter what,” Balthazar frowned deeply.

“Not _that_ hard to predict,” said Santa. “If Zero’s been watching us, they’d know Quatre would break down every fucking door looking for her sister. Maybe Zero _thought_ she’d come through here, too.”

“You think Zero’s messing with Quatre, specifically?” Balthazar asked her.

Santa opened her mouth, then abruptly snapped it shut and looked away.

“What?” Balthazar demanded.

She stared at him for a moment, as though disappointed he had pressed, then sighed.

“I mean...” she started awkwardly, “if Zero would go that far to mess with Quatre, what if... what if June’s fever is the same? What if it’s something Zero _did,_ to mess with _you?”_

“Are you implying June is next?” Balthazar’s whole body went cold. “You were _just_ telling me _not_ to worry!”

Santa rolled her eyes and cocked her head sharply.

“I _wasn’t_ going to say it,” she pointed out, “and anyways, that’s why you voted for the same door as him, isn’t it? So _don’t_ worry; just focus on getting through here together.”

Her incisiveness surprised him somewhat. Balthazar dropped his gaze and nodded stiffly.

                      “Balthazar! Santa!”

Castiel called them back to the now-opened boxes, although there was nothing in any of them.

“Here-” Balthazar hadn’t noticed, but Cass held a bundle of small, metal rods in his hands, which he splayed out for Balthazar and Santa to see.

They were a little like sewing pins, and each one had a number, 1 - 9, engraved at one end. Santa looked at them strangely.

“Anyone know where these are supposed to go...?” she asked.

“I suppose they wouldn’t fit in the door’s keyhole...” Balthazar mused.

“You didn’t find anything telling by that fence?” Ace asked Santa.

“Oh-” she started, as though she'd forgotten it entirely, “uh...no. There’s...a coffin, on top of some boxes on the other side, but we can’t reach it.”

“...yet,” Ace added.

“Right.”

“Then the stairs are the only place we haven’t checked,” said Cass.

“You think these _will_ unlock the door?” Balthazar tilted his head.

“No, the _top_ of the stairs-” Cass gathered the pins in one hand and pointed with the other.

“They keep going past the door, and there’s something up there.”

All four of them made their way up the narrow staircase; it was hardly necessary, but there was nothing left to search on the ground floor. Santa took the lead, and Balthazar followed close behind Castiel...just to be safe.

A waist high, dark green console sat in the nook at the very top of the stairs. A small screen, showing nothing, was bordered on the right by a red and a green switch, and something like a joystick. None of them reacted, but a tiny, bright green light halfway down the box caught Balthazar’s eye.

Nine numbered lights, with only the ninth lit, were attached above six small holes, a perfect fit for the pins they had found. A shutter blocked their view of a rectangular panel to the right.

Castiel pressed the ninth light, but it was no button. He hummed, frowning.

“Do you think we need to turn it off, or turn all the others _on?”_ he wondered.

“Turning them all on sounds like a bigger pain in the ass, so...” Balthazar shrugged, “probably that.”

“There are only six pin holes, though,” Cass observed. “I guess that’s the puzzle.”

“Well, let’s get started,” resigned, Balthazar sighed, and took a few pins from Cass. With nothing else to go on, he stuck the 1, 2, and 3 pins into the top holes and 6, 7, 8 into the bottom.

The number 3 and number 6 lights came on. Silently, they stared and considered its meaning.

“Oh!” Santa exclaimed. “The digital roots!”

The others looked at her, and one by one realized it themselves.

1 + 2 + 3 = 6

6 + 7 + 8 = 21 (2 + 1 = 3)

“Then the top and bottom rows are counted separately,” noted Ace.

On a hunch, Balthazar inserted the pins once more, in the same order.

As he expected, the 3 and 6 lights went out.

“Just checking,” he said.

As they discovered, all six holes needed pins for any of the lights to activate. Balthazar handed his notebook to Castiel, and, two by two, they added up the digital roots for the unlit numbers.

The shutters to the right retracted, revealing a 3x3 grid of pinholes with a large letter “F” above them.

“‘F’...?” Santa sounded at a loss. Cass kneeled next to Balthazar and peered closely at the grid.

“These lines between the holes...” he murmured, tracing the faint marks with his finger, “...they remind me of those magic square puzzles, where all the rows, columns, and diagonals have to add or multiply to the same number.”

“Except ‘F’ isn’t a number,” Santa protested.

“Sure it is,” Ace surprised them, sounding very certain. “It’s 15.”

“How do you figure that?” Santa tilted her head.

“Is it a code?” asked Cass.

“You might say that,” Ace answered. “When we’re out of here, look up the hexadecimal, or base-16, number system. For now, suffice to say I’m _quite_ confident the answer is 15.”

Balthazar looked back at the cryptic puzzle and sighed deeply. Behind him, Santa chuckled.

“Come on, between the four of us, it can’t take _that_ long.”

She wasn’t wrong, but after their conversation by the fence, every wasted minute was intolerable. No sooner had the faint connecting lines lit up green than Cass started, pointing to the top of the console.

“Look!”

The monitor had powered up, the screen glowing white for several seconds before fading into...

“...I’m not sure _what_ this is,” muttered Balthazar, with Ace looking over his shoulder.

The screen showed a grid, with a number of brown and grey tiles standing out. To the middle left was a single, yellow tile with a red dot at its center, and the entire right column was made up of similar, paler yellow tiles. In the top right corner was an icon shaped like a coffin, and in the top left sat the words “Moves 50/50”.

“It’s the control panel for... _that,”_ Santa, with an odd smile on her face, pointed to the ground floor past the fence.

Suddenly, the grid on the monitor made perfect sense. He hadn’t been able to tell from eye level, but the wooden crates and metal boxes behind the fence were arranged exactly as the tiles on the screen. Only an odd, yellow device with a red bulb on its head stood out.

“And what is... _that?”_

Santa and Castiel began to laugh, looking down at a stiff card Santa held in her hands. She cleared her throat authoritatively, laughed again, and straightened up to speak.

“It’s the Pushmaster 5000.”

“No.”

Santa broke down, weakly pushing the card into Balthazar’s hands as Cass clutched her arm, trying to stifle his laughter with his sleeve.

He didn’t know where she had gotten it, but it was an instruction card for the

“...’Pushmaster 5000’, oh _God,"_ Balthazar groaned. He read it as quickly and painlessly as possible, then handed the card to Ace and looked at the screen once more.

_“Basically-”_ Balthazar cleared his throat to get Cass and Santa’s attention, “we have 50 moves to push those four wooden boxes into the rightmost column, so that we can climb the fence and reach the coffin.”

“And we have to program the moves in first, because the thing runs on a battery,” added Santa, wiping her eyes.

It was a trickier puzzle than it first appeared, and on the heels of the pins and the magic square, Balthazar hoped it would be the last. With Cass and Santa now sobered up and concentrating, they punched in the program

“-with eight moves to spare,” Balthazar smirked triumphantly, fingers hovering over the console. “...er, now what?”

“Shh, it’s already working,” Santa nudged him and nodded ahead.

Just as ordered, the little machine whirred and pushed the wooden crates into a neat line along the right wall.

“I get it...” Cass murmured. “Those boxes on _our_ side kind of look like stairs, don’t they? I hadn’t noticed on the ground level.”

“I mean, it’s still a narrow walk, but yeah,” added Santa.

Balthazar considered their precarious path and turned to Castiel.

“June, maybe you should--”

“You _really_ need to stop saying that.”

Cass turned on his heel and led the way back downstairs, with Balthazar hurrying behind him.

Carefully, they mounted the boxes and let themselves down on the other side of the fence.

“It really is a coffin...” Cass, still in the lead, hesitated for a moment before approaching.

As they stared, they were startled by the _*THUD*_ of Santa jumping to the floor. She moved to the coffin’s other side and motioned to Balthazar and Castiel.

“Come on, let’s get it off.”

The coffin jerked as they pulled away the lid; clearly it was nearly empty.

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CR19aeEJ1b19qc28)

Balthazar froze, swallowing heavily. Cass inched backwards, but didn’t look away. Santa stared at them both and hurriedly climbed the boxes again.

“-woah...”

Beside a rusty key laid a gun, an old fashioned, golden revolver. Balthazar picked it up, almost reverently, holding it as far away from himself as he could.

“...is it real...?” Cass asked, very softly.

“May I?” Ace held a hand out between them. Balthazar nodded, tightlipped, and handed him the gun.

Ace looked it over and, with a flick of his wrist, popped open the chamber to examine its contents.

“This is quite real, I would say,” his voice was solemn.

“And it’s loaded,” Balthazar could tell that much, even if he’d never handled a gun in his life.

Cass turned abruptly and swiped the rusty key up.

“I’m _sure_ this fits the door-” he started, his voice clipped, “so--...do we _need_ that?”

“No.”

Her arms crossed, Santa sounded very serious and very sure. “Shooting someone’s not a fucking puzzle. No, this is a late-game hand grenade. I say we put it back and not even mention it to anyone else.”

“I agree completely,” Ace nudged his way between Balthazar and Castiel and laid the revolver back inside the coffin. “It’s much too dangerous and not at all necessary. Let’s forget we ever saw it.”

A wave of relief passed through the room. With no one protesting, no one would get hurt. They hurriedly slid the lid back onto the coffin and made their way back over the fence to the exit door.

Still tense, Cass fumbled with the key as he pushed it into the lock and swung the long handle.

Only when the door was shut behind them could Balthazar quite breathe again, a feeling they all seemed to share. After a long pause to gather themselves they slowly pushed forward, following a long, narrow hallway until it branched into an open room.

“Surprise, surprise,” murmured Ace with a small smile. They had made it to the second elevator on the opposite side of the E Deck grate. Casually, Ace hit the call button, and the doors rolled open without protest.

“All right, that’s our ticket back upstairs,” he noted contentedly.

“But this hallway keeps going,” added Santa more seriously, “and I think we all know what might be down there.”

With a new sense of apprehension, they continued down the wider hall, past a number of doors now bolted over with solid metal plates...

...until they came to a single, wooden door with gold accents, out of place in the drab grey of the lower decks.

The paths ahead had too been bolted over, leaving only the cozy door in front of them as a way ahead. Balthazar pushed the handle and led the way inside.


	6. Door 9

...and there it was.

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4Ca2VIVVFyalVqLU0)

The number that had consumed them these past long hours now stood in front of their eyes. None of them spoke as they approached.

A set of double doors sat in the room’s back wall, and on its front, in the same blood red paint, was a 9.

A RED was bolted to the wall on its right, and as Balthazar stared at it he felt his stomach slowly twist into a knot.

This changed nothing. Without Duo, the seven remaining players could not all escape. What would they do now?

He bit his lip, wracking his brain for a reassurance to offer, at least to Castiel, but his friend spoke first.

“Balthazar...” Cass’ voice was soft with shock, and he raised his hand to point across the room. “Look...”

Balthazar spun around, and his eyes went wide.

Set into the opposite wall, in the other corner of the side they had entered, was a single door...with another 9.

Another RED, another painted number. Balthazar twisted his head back and forth between the doors, as though one of them might disappear.

“Do you suppose...only one is the ‘real’ door?” Ace regarded them with a frown, his hands stuck pensively in his pockets.

“No-” Cass shook his head emphatically. “No, think about it-- with the numbers 1 - 9, you can split it all sorts of ways to make two digital roots of nine. I was right this whole time, we _can_ get everyone out. We--we _could_ have--...”

Trembling, he sat on a nearby bench and raised his hands to his head, looking very, very tired. With a heavy heart Balthazar sighed noiselessly, and moved to join him.

All four of them stayed quiet as the bitter truth sank in.

From the beginning, the Nonary Game was designed to save all nine players.

That is, if they survived to make it here.

Several minutes passed in silence.

“Yeah, I guess we could have seen this coming,” Santa took a deep breath, resting her chin on her hands where she sat. “I mean, Zero said, ‘seek _a_ door that carries a 9’, not... _the_ door, or whatever...”

She trailed off quietly, as though unwilling to continue. Perhaps she felt it unnecessary.

Slowly, Balthazar stood up, offering his hand to Cass.

“We should get going, don’t you think?” he asked gently.

“You _do_ mean back upstairs, right?” Santa spoke up as she stood.

1 + 3 + 5 = 9

Balthazar shot her a glare. She shrugged.

Castiel seemed lethargic, or depressed - certainly in no mood to be proud he had been correct. As Balthazar waited, he cast an eye about the room more intently than he had before.

The nine benches that lined the room, he realized, were pews. This was clearly a chapel, or something very similar. A long, red carpet led the way from the larger 9 door all the way to the front of the room,

ending at a platformed alcove, where an altar might be expected.

Instead, there was only...

“Good Lord, _another_ one.”

“You...didn’t notice?” Santa sounded skeptical.

Balthazar stared at the coffin. It was made of a lighter-coloured wood than the one in the cargo room, with no gold accents, but he thought the waffle pattern on its front looked about the same.

A coincidence?

Something on its side did catch his eye, however, and he crouched to inspect it.

Attached to the coffin was a gold keypad, as though for entering a passcode.

“Is it locked?” he wondered out loud. Gesturing for a hand to Ace and Santa, the three of them gripped the lid as well as they could and heaved.

“Ow-...” Santa winced and gently rubbed her hands. The coffin was indeed locked tight, in fact seemed to be anchored somehow to the floor.

“I don’t get the sense this a ‘puzzle room’, as it were,” said Ace. “If there’s a clue to opening this, I doubt it’s in here.”

“But then where?” asked Balthazar. “There’s nothing to connect _this_ coffin with the other one except the design. Unless we’re meant to shoot it open.”

Santa laughed, once, but Castiel, now on his feet, did not seem to find the idea funny.

“-sorry...” Balthazar murmured, touching his arm.

In silence once more, they left the chapel and headed for the elevator.

...   

 

                                                       ...

 

...

  
  
  
  


 

* * *

 

Their soft footfalls as they arrived at the central stairs were quickly drowned out by the pounding of others’ above them.

Seven and Lotus appeared winded, tearing down the staircase and stopping short in front of Team 6.

“Quatre?!” Lotus sounded frantic.

“Did you see her?!” Seven shouted at their confused faces.

“Wait-- what?” Santa jerked back in surprise. Balthazar craned his neck to look at the decks above, but there was no one on the landing.

“We went through Door 1--” still catching her breath, Lotus spoke quickly. “There were f-four rooms on the other side, and Quatre--”

“She wouldn’t let us into the fourth one,” Seven explained. “She barely spoke to us, just said, ‘I’ll take care of this’.”

“For half an hour we didn’t hear a thing, so we broke the door down, but she was gone!”

“The exit door was open, so we ran after her back here-” Seven looked them over intently. “You _didn’t_ see her?”

“No, we saw no one,” Ace answered, “and if I understand you, you haven’t searched anywhere yet outside of Door 1?”

“That’s right,” Lotus nodded tensely.

“Then we should split up right now,” Ace continued, his face tight. “Let’s hurry, we don’t have much time.”

As fast as they could, Balthazar and Cass ran to the large hospital room.

All Balthazar could think was that - maybe, hopefully - Quatre had gone to see her sister.

They tore through the numberless door Seven had stoppered, and raced into the shower room.

The stench was ten times as horrific as before. Balthazar covered his nose and called out weakly.

“--Quatre?! _Please,_ are you here?!”

He gagged and coughed, pushing a hand against the wall to stay upright.

“--shit--- I h-have to check--” he gasped. “June, please--stay here--”

Cass winced and held his shawl tighter over his mouth, but nodded, leaning heavily against the wall.

Balthazar inched his way forward, stopping twice to choke down his own bile.

There was no one save the corpse, the brilliant white of her bones standing out more than ever against the darkening blood and gore. Balthazar whipped his head back and collapsed against the wall, gulping down two quick breaths and weakly pushing himself to his feet.

 

“....but...”

Halfway back to Castiel, he froze.

.....the...

               ...bones......

“...Balthazar?” He had turned back towards the body, and Cass called out in concern. Balthazar held up a hand, took a deep breath, and leaned around the corner once more.

“....oh God-”

He was right.

He stared--

           --at the broken bone of her left arm.

                                 The arm Duo had lost as a child.

 

* * *

 

Balthazar and Castiel sat, panting heavily, on a bed in the large hospital room, their hands still shaking.

“...but then...who?” murmured Cass.

“Hell if I know,” Balthazar muttered, “but this _might_ absolve Zero of the blame.”

“Then Zero set the real murderer up...” Cass reasoned. “I mean, whoever they were, they were wearing Duo’s clothes, and a bracelet.”

“Or Zero set _us_ up to think it _was_ Duo,” Balthazar noted.

“But how could they fool _Quatre?”_ Cass raised his voice and quickly hushed himself again. “I...I don’t think she realized it wasn’t her sister...”

“Me neither,” Balthazar agreed, sighing. “I...don’t know.”

They stood abruptly at the sound of approaching footsteps, and the doors swung open.

“--oh good-” Santa jogged to them, her face deathly pale.

Balthazar couldn’t bear to ask, and Cass slowly covered his mouth as he stared. Santa merely shook her head and motioned for them to follow.

She led them wordlessly up the stairs to B Deck...

...and into the 1st class cabin. Lotus sat on the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Ace stood a few feet away, shifting his weight in silence.

“Seven’s in the bathroom,” Santa gestured vaguely as she joined Lotus. “Just... go.”

The door was open only a crack, not enough to see inside. Cass grasped Balthazar’s hand as he had in the elevator, and Balthazar held on tight.

His blood ran cold.

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CYUstdHdGUUtpclU)

There was no mistake this time. Quatre lay on her side, in full view, a pool of blood beneath her torso whose source Balthazar could not see.

“Someone stabbed her in the back.”

Balthazar nearly jumped as Seven spoke up behind him. “Literally.”

His attempt at a joke amused no one, himself included. Seven’s gaze fell away from Balthazar, back to Quatre on the floor.

Balthazar tried to speak several times, but couldn’t. Slowly, he knelt by Quatre’s side.

“You found her?” his voice was hoarse.

“That’s right.”

Balthazar looked up at Seven, who held his gaze sternly for a long moment.

“I don’t particularly care what you think,” he said. “That makes this _my_ crime scene.”

Balthazar cleared his throat and looked away, pushing himself to his feet.

“How about a joint investigation, then?” he offered.

Seven thought it over, then answered with a grim smirk.

“All right, I can respect that.”

Balthazar nodded tightly and turned back to Quatre’s body. Castiel knelt by her head, gingerly looking her over without touching her. He peered at her back for a long moment, then tilted his head up to Balthazar.

“It’s such a small wound...” he murmured, his voice drawn with sadness.

“Sounds like luck or very good aim,” said Seven, fitting his hands casually into his pockets.

“So--” Balthazar turned back to him, “tell me _exactly_ what happened when you found her.”

“I didn’t come here right away,” Seven explained. “I went back to Door 1 first, then I tried to think of any loose ends she might have gone for. Since I saw you two bolt for... well, Duo, I decided to come here because of the...”

Seven paused, glanced briefly at Cass, and then gestured knowingly at Balthazar. “...you know.”

“It’s fine,” Balthazar waved a hand even as he lowered his voice. “...and?”

“Hmmm.” Seven frowned momentarily, but didn’t protest Cass’ inclusion. “Someone moved it, but it’s still locked.”

“What...is?” Castiel looked back and forth between them.

“When Seven, Duo, and I were first in here - you remember -” Balthazar explained, “we found a small safe that we never opened. Seven propped the exit door open in case we found a clue to unlocking it.”

“Oh, _that’s_ why...”

Balthazar nodded, gesturing to Seven. “Are you thinking Quatre tried to open it, and was killed? Or that she found someone _else_ trying to open it, and was silenced?”

“Well-” Seven reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a folded slip of paper, “this was in _her_ coat when I found her. If it has anything to do with the safe, then...”

He stopped, and peeked out the door before shutting it tight and handing the slip to Balthazar.

“‘Truth had gone, truth had gone, and truth had gone’,” read Cass, sotto voce, over Balthazar’s shoulder. “‘Ah, now truth is asleep in the darkness of the sinister hand.’”

He straightened up and frowned deeply in confusion. “Is the safe _not_ a...number lock?”

“No, it is...” Balthazar recalled, frowning himself. “Seven, what...er, makes you think this is about the _safe?”_

“Well, unless Quatre picked this up behind Door 8 without you noticing...” he raised an eyebrow at Balthazar inquisitively, but Balthazar shook his head. “All right. June, were there any unsolved items left over behind Door 4 when you went through?”

“No, none.”

“Door 6?”

Balthazar and Castiel both shook their heads.

“Then that just leaves this safe,” Seven went on. “If Quatre didn’t use that clue to escape Door 1 - and I suppose she _might_ have - then it must be connected.”

“Was she carrying anything else?” asked Balthazar.

Seven scrutinized him for a long moment, then slowly reached into his jacket once more.

“Just...”

“...this.”

A numbered bracelet, in pristine condition, with a 0 on its display.

“Whose...?” Cass stared, wide-eyed. Seven smiled and shrugged.

“Behind Door 1 was the Captain’s Quarters,” he said. “I think this was just our ‘captain’s’ idea of a joke.”

 

_“I am Zero, the captain of this ship.”_

 

“Ah...” Once again, Balthazar recalled Zero’s speech in the grand hall.

He chuckled humourlessly. “And...that’s all, then?”

“Scout’s honour,” Seven promised, tucking the bracelet back into his jacket. “And I doubt it’ll unlock the safe.”

“Right...” Balthazar sighed, running a hand through his hair and staring at the paper, “which leaves us with...this.”

“Well-” said Cass, “‘sinister hand’, if it’s literal, would mean the left hand.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Seven murmured, amused. “The left hand used to be the ‘evil’ one, didn’t it.”

Cass seemed a touch surprised at the news, thinking it over for a moment. “...oh yes, that’s true. ...I was thinking of the heraldry term, where ‘sinister’ meant the left side of a coat of arms.”

Balthazar laughed softly, and Cass smiled at him.

“All right,” said Balthazar, “I think we can be quite certain of that, then.”

His smile fading, he held up his own left hand. The only remarkable thing about it was the bulky bracelet still clamped to his wrist.

“Hm. Maybe these are more than just our numbers...somehow. But what about the rest of this?”

They gathered close and scrutinized the page.

“‘Truth had gone’ isn’t even a line that makes _sense,”_ said Seven. “Maybe those aren’t the... _right_ words.”

“Word substitution, you mean?” Cass tilted his head.

_“---ah!”_

Startled, Cass and Seven looked at Balthazar, tapping the page rapidly with his hand. _"Right_ words, you get it?”

They shook their heads.

“‘Truth’,” he explained, “something that is ‘correct’, or--”

“‘Right’,” Seven smiled and nodded.

“--yes, and ‘gone’-” Balthazar looked up, “when someone’s _gone,_ they’ve--”

“Left!” said Castiel.

“‘Right and left’,” Seven rubbed his chin. “...and?”

"Well..." Balthazar folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket, holding up his left hand. “...hm.”

He flipped his wrist, the solid metal ring telling him nothing. He stared at the display, then suddenly lifted it closer to his face.

“Wait a minute...” Balthazar raised his free hand to the rivets on the bracelet’s sides. Unlike those on a watch, they’d done nothing when pressed all those hours ago, back in the 3rd class cabin.

Why add them at all?

 

_“Truth had gone, truth had gone, and truth had gone.”_

 

Balthazar clicked the rivets in order:

 

right → left → right → left → right → left

 

...

 

One after the other, the numbers appeared on the bracelet’s face: 14383421

All three were stunned. Balthazar quickly hit the rivets again, just to be sure.

14383421

“Now _that_ would fit a number lock,” Seven sounded awed even as he joked.

“Just act casual, all right?” Balthazar insisted quietly.

They exited the bathroom and slowly filed back into the bedroom, the others looking up at them expectantly. Lotus and Santa were quietly having their own conversation, while Ace seemed to merely be pacing glumly.

“Did you...find something?” Santa regarded them with muted curiousity.

“...maybe,” Balthazar answered her. “Seven and I _were_ through here before. Just give us one more minute...please.”

Santa shrugged and looked away. Lotus touched her shoulder gently. Ace said nothing, but watched them as they opened the door to the walk-in closet.

With a glance over his shoulder, Balthazar carefully turned the combination lock.

 

1 to the right → 4 to the left → 3 to the right → 8 to the left →

3 to the right → 4 to the left → 2 to the right → 1 to the left

 

_*click*_

 

A lone slip of paper lay inside. Balthazar lifted it, and the three read in silence.

 

\-----Fact #1-----

  
The Nonary Game was played once before, 9 years ago.

  
\-----Fact #2-----

  
The person with the number (2) bracelet attended the game 9 years ago.

  
\-----Fact #3-----

  
It was planned by the following 4 people:

  
\- Cradle Pharmaceutical CEO -

J. Michael

  
\- Cradle Pharmaceutical Chief of Staff -

E. Lilith

  
\- Cradle Pharmaceutical R&D Supervisor -

E. Metatron

  
\- Majority Shareholder in Cradle Pharmaceutical -

A. Zachariah

 

I must punish them.

  
For the innocent lives they sacrificed.

  
This is the only warning they will receive.

  
That innocent souls might be saved, I now state the truth.

 

\-- Zero

 

“...but can we trust this is ‘the truth’?” Seven wondered out loud, suddenly stopping short when he looked up.

“.....Balthazar?” Castiel touched his shoulder, voice soft but concerned.

Balthazar didn’t answer, staring dead ahead. Slowly, he slipped the paper into his pocket, wiping his forehead with a slightly unsteady hand.

Cass shook his arm. “Balthazar?”

“I know,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice came out hoarse. “I mean I-- _think_ I know, who...who the killer is.”

“Killer?” Seven frowned. “If you’re thinking of Quatre _and_ Duo, isn’t it killer _s?”_

Balthazar waved a hand frantically between them. “Please, just-- just play along, all right?”

He looked imploringly at Cass, then at Seven. _“Please.”_

They both nodded, and Balthazar took a long, deep breath, running a hand over his front and straightening his jacket, before leading them back into the bedroom.

“Sorry, about that,” he offered to the others, with appropriate solemnity.

“Well?” Santa asked. All eyes were on Balthazar.

“Yes, we did find something,” he nodded. Santa and Lotus leapt to their feet, and Ace joined them, his arms folded across his chest. “But there’s one more thing we need to check.”

“What?!” Santa was incredulous. “Come _on--”_

“Do you want to know who killed them or not?!” Balthazar fired back. Santa, Lotus, and Ace all gaped at him in shock, quickly looking to Seven and Castiel for confirmation. To Balthazar’s relief, they nodded confidently.

“Just come with us to the big hospital room,” he implored the others. “Once we’re sure, we’ll tell you everything, of _course_ we will.”

“Y-yeah,” Santa backed down, and hurried for the exit.

As Balthazar threw open the doors, a familiar clock chimed from far away.

 

3...

                                                       4...

5.

 

“We don’t have much time--” Balthazar waved them inside and led them to Door 3.

“Wait, are we--?” Lotus tensed, shooting at a glance at the numberless door.

“No, we’re not,” Balthazar assured her. “I just need you, Ace, and Seven to scan at the RED, but _don’t_ go inside when I pull the lever.”

Neither Lotus nor Ace looked convinced, but Seven pushing purposefully forward spurred them on, and one-by-one they authenticated.

Balthazar followed suit, making very sure _not_ to touch the RED with his hand. He merely brought his bracelet near it, and a fourth asterisk appeared.

He pulled the lever, and, just as expected, the doors ground open with a faint, metal whine.

Nine seconds later, they slid shut, and Balthazar nodded, satisfied. Five pairs of eyes watched him as he paced a few steps back and forth, before stopping to address the group.

“Actually....” he began slowly, _"I_ have a confession to make.”

“...Ace-”  Balthazar turned to him. “I’m sorry, but...while you were still unconscious, I took something from you.”

As he spoke, Balthazar reached into his coat pocket.

For one split second, the bluff worked. Ace’s hand twitched towards his own coat, stopping when Balthazar lowered his hand.

“Ah.” Balthazar’s eyes narrowed. “You _do_ have Number Nine’s bracelet, don’t you?”

Ace may have been caught, but he quickly forced his usual placid smile back into place.

“Take it out,” Balthazar ordered, “or we’ll do it for you.”

As if on cue, Seven, then Cass, rose from their seats and took a deliberate step toward Ace. Santa and Lotus stood as well, watching him closely.

Ace looked them all over, then chuckled, raising his hands placatingly before reaching slowly into his pocket.

“There, you see?” He held up the bracelet and slowly waved it in front of them. “...and?”

“When did you take it?” Balthazar asked.

“I ducked out while we were looking for the missing RED parts,” Ace answered easily.

“That’s when Duo disappeared...” Santa had caught on, and Balthazar nodded to her.

“And what _is_ the digital root of 1, 2, and 9?” he prompted.

1 + 2 + 9 = 12

1 + 2 = 3

Santa and Lotus glanced at Balthazar as though to make sure he wasn’t joking. Seven and Cass held their ground watching Ace, their shoulders stiff.

Ace’s expression darkened, and he stared past the others, straight at Balthazar.

“That’s a very serious accusation,” he said, his voice deliberately even.

“But a plausible one,” Balthazar countered calmly. “You all saw it, no? I didn’t touch the RED with my hand just now; it reacted to my bracelet. That’s all you need to open the numbered doors.”

“Yes, I saw that...” Lotus and Santa nodded fervently.

“As for Quatre,” Balthazar went on, “she was killed with a very _small_ blade, like...a pocket knife, for instance. ...You _also_ have Nine’s knife, don’t you, Ace?”

Ace tilted his head, and shrugged. “And?”

“I _do_ know who you are, Michael,” Balthazar snapped. He couldn’t give Ace even a moment to think, to make excuses. “I know _why_ you killed them.”

...and it seemed to be working. Ace straightened up, an odd look, perhaps surprise, passing briefly over his face.

“Wait, hold on...” Santa and Lotus glanced away from Ace, not following the turn in conversation.

It couldn’t be helped, Balthazar knew. He took the paper from his pocket and held it out to Santa, his eyes never leaving Ace.

“‘Fact #1, the Nonary Game’...” Santa and Lotus huddled together, mumbling words here and there as their eyes tore across the page. “...’the person with the number (2) bracelet’...no...”

“What is that paper?” Ace asked coldly.

Balthazar scoffed. “You don’t know? It’s what Quatre was looking for when you killed her.”

Ace fell silent, his face hardening.

“...’the following 4 people: Cradle Pharmaceutical CEO’.......”

Santa and Lotus slowly raised their heads to look at Ace, their eyes wide. Balthazar felt a swell of vindication as Santa took an angry step forward. The others only had Balthazar’s word, for now, that Ace was Michael. But Santa...

                      ...she knew.

“Let me see that paper,” Ace demanded. Lotus looked to Balthazar, who nodded.

“You recognized Duo, but did she recognize you?” Balthazar pressed on even as Ace read. “You had no way of knowing, so you simply decided to silence her, _and_ her sister, before they could expose you.”

“That _is_ a sound motive,” Ace had composed himself by the time he looked up, neatly folding the page and tucking it into his own coat, “but where is your proof?”

“I don’t have any,” Balthazar returned the smile. “I just have...one more question. When did you realize you’d killed the wrong person?”

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CLWpSQWNUNC1ZWjQ)

They all saw it, the colour draining from Ace’s stony face.

Slowly, everyone - save Castiel - turned their shock to Balthazar.

“How...?” Lotus was the first to speak.

“You didn’t notice?” Balthazar crossed his arms and smirked at Ace as he answered. “You remember what Quatre told me in the laboratory, about Duo’s accident?”

“...that she wears prosthetics, you mean?”

“Right,” Balthazar nodded, his smirk fading as he continued. “The body in the shower room... Whoever they are, their left arm was definitely flesh and blood. You can see the broken bone. I didn’t realize it at first, but...”

He trailed off as Lotus’ hands slowly curled into fists, and she turned towards Ace.

“Who...did you kill?” Her voice wavered with outrage.

“Was it another Cradle executive?” Balthazar pressed. “One of the other people on the list?”

“Yes.”

Ace’s sudden calm took them all aback. He slipped his hands casually into his pockets, his insufferable smile back in place and aimed squarely at Balthazar. “They both were.”

_“Both?”_ Cass spoke for the first time. “You don’t mean...Quatre?”

“No, of course not,” Ace practically scoffed at him.

“There’s only one other person...” said Seven. “You must mean Number Nine.”

“Metatron.” Ace gestured at him casually.

“The...R&D Supervisor,” Seven rubbed his chin.

_“Why?”_ Disgust made Balthazar’s voice harsh.

“I had three reasons,” Ace’s calm was infuriating. “First, 9 is the most valuable number in the Nonary Game. It can be added to any other number without changing its digital root.”

1 + 9 = 10 (1 + 0 = 1)

2 + 9 = 11 (1 + 1 = 2)

3 + 9 = 12 (1 + 2 = 3)

“As such, the 9 bracelet holder can go where they please, with any team they choose. Of course I needed it for myself; and the only way to obtain it was for the owner to die.

“Second, he knew who I was. Perhaps he still trusted me, but how could I be sure he wouldn’t turn? Why should I have taken that risk?

“Finally, I wanted to conduct a test. I had to know if this Nonary Game was genuine, or a poor imitation. Metatron was a very arrogant, selfish man, you see. It wasn’t difficult to convince him that I had ‘figured out’ the technology here was merely a lesser version of his original designs. He truly believed he could manipulate the DEAD all on his own, and I knew he would take any opportunity to get ahead.”

Ace finished his confession with a wan shrug, looking almost proud of himself. No one moved. Balthazar bit back the taste of acid in his mouth and ground out a question between his teeth.

“And who...is in the shower room?”

“Ah... Lilith,” Ace sounded rather nostalgic. “Yes, when I returned from collecting the bracelet, I was sure I saw Duo enter this room. I followed her inside and called to her, but she didn’t react. She seemed rather dazed, actually, simply wandering ahead towards Door 3. With the 9 bracelet in hand, I realized it would be easy to get rid of her. I forced her hand onto the scanner and pushed her inside.”

Ace paused, his expression sobering as he looked off to the side, rubbing his chin. “Only then did I see her face. I suppose I was rather hasty, but, then again...that was the point. I understand now.”

“Understand...?”

“Don’t you see?” Ace raised his eyes to Balthazar once more. “Why were the parts of the REDs missing in the first place? Why was Lilith walking around in Duo’s clothes, incapacitated to the point where she couldn’t identify herself to me? I’ve been manipulated, and very thoroughly. Zero must have foreseen it all. They must have known _exactly_ what I would do, and set me up accordingly. I’m ashamed I couldn’t see it until now.”

“Zero at least gave you a _choice,”_ said Lotus. “You’re still a murderer.”

“Indeed,” Ace smirked at her. “The fact that I lost to Zero is entirely my failure.”

He sighed deeply, an infuriating sound, and gestured casually to the exit doors. “Well? Shall we be going?”

_“Going?”_ snapped Santa. “With _you?”_

“Yes,” Ace answered simply. “You need as many numbers as possible for the best chance of escape. Are you going to leave me here just to be petty?”

“The numbers don’t work anyway,” said Cass. “Why would we bother trying to take _you?”_

Ace raised an eyebrow at him, turning slowly from person to person. “...I don’t understand why you’re all so angry. We’re all strangers here, aren’t we? What do any of them matter to you?”

That was the last straw. Every one of them made a move for Ace. Lotus closed in, reaching for his throat--

 

                      --and the trap snapped shut.

With one hand, Ace grabbed her wrist, and in an instant the other dove into his coat and came out with the revolver, pressed squarely to her forehead.

“...what...i-is this...?” Her eyes flicked to the side, towards the others. Seven, too, seemed stunned, while Balthazar, Castiel, and Santa tensed in disbelief.

“It was behind Door 6--” Balthazar snarled. “God _dammit,_ we agreed to leave it behind--!”

“Your own fault,” said Ace. “It _is_ loaded,” he told Lotus, and again she looked desperately to the other three for an answer. They nodded, their eyes falling shamefully to the floor.

Ace took a step towards the doors, dragging Lotus along. Despite the threat, she planted her feet firmly on the ground. Ace glowered at her.

“There are enough bullets here for all of you,” he informed them. “Do I need to remind you that I only need her bracelet to pass the door?”

1 + 8 + 9 = 18

1 + 8 = 9

“You say that as though you’ll let her live either way,” Seven spoke for them all.

“There’s always a chance,” Ace smirked at him briefly. “Your choice.”

He took another step, another pull on Lotus’ arm. She resisted, but this time, no one else moved.

“...you should go, Lotus,” Cass said quietly. “You can still get out alive.”

“I don’t-” she started, but the others nodded urgently to her.

“Hurry,” Seven insisted, with calm gravity, “while we still have time to figure something else out.”

She stared up at him for a long moment, then slowly looked away, and finally began to move.

With a grim echo, the door fell shut behind them.

The room was deadly silent. They stood, tensed, for several minutes...

 

                      --then leapt for the door.

_“June!”_

There was a crash, and Balthazar slammed to a halt and spun around as Santa’s voice rang out.

His knuckles white, Cass gripped a metal bedframe as he slumped to the ground, his legs shaking violently as he fought to stay upright. Together, Balthazar and Santa helped him onto the mattress.

_“--holy...”_ Balthazar nearly recoiled as he laid a hand on Cass’ cheek. His skin was hot enough to burn, his lips dry as he took a ragged breath.

Cass tried to raise his head and speak, but didn’t seem to have the strength for either, managing only a faint rasp. Balthazar leaned in closer, but Cass pushed him weakly away.

“You two need to _go-”_ Santa spoke for him. “I’ll stay here with June, but we can’t wait around--”

Seven moved for the door, but Balthazar stayed frozen, the idea of leaving Castiel in

“--go-”

Cass’ eyes were red and wet with pain, his hand on Balthazar’s arm trembling, but he looked up and urged him on with a glare and a whisper.

_“--go!”_

Balthazar and Seven burst through the door.

Their feet pounding the floor were sure to alert Ace if he was still nearby, but they only ran faster.

They flew into the empty chapel and stopped short.

“Dammit _shit--”_

“I’m not sure what we were _planning_ to do, but...” Seven seemed to agree with the sentiment nonetheless.

With feigned casualness, he wandered over to the closer of the nine doors, in the corner by the altar, and peered at the RED.

“It’s this one.”

“He said, as though it makes a difference,” Balthazar answered just for something to say, running an anxious hand through his hair.

Seven straightened up with a long sigh. “Should we go back?”

“Yes we _should,”_ Balthazar was halfway to the exit. “I have to check on June.”

He grabbed the door handle and

            _*knockknock knock*_

 

looked up at Seven, who leaned in closer to the 9 door

_*knockknockknockknockknock*_

 

and shook his head.

Balthazar looked across the room

but it was clear neither door was the source of the noise,

 

                                  _*knock knock knock*_

_*knockknockknockknockknock*_

the increasingly loud, persistent noise.

Balthazar cast a bewildered look at Seven, who cleared his throat and nodded at the altar.

“Oh Lord...” Balthazar approached hesitantly...

...waited...

                               ...

 

                                              ...

 

_*knockknockknockknockknockknockknock*_

 

and jumped.

“--wait!” he shouted. “You don’t think it’s--?”

“Come on-” Seven grabbed what purchase he could and urged Balthazar to do the same, pulling at the coffin lid with all their strength.

“--d-damn...” Balthazar’s hands trembled lightly, his fingertips red.

The knocking continued on.

“There _must_ be a clue in here somewhere,” Seven insisted. “That’s how this works, isn’t it?”

“We already looked,” Balthazar answered. “There’s only--” he nudged the coffin’s side with his foot “-this.”

“Another number lock...” Seven murmured, crouching. “Well, we did find some numbers; try plugging them in.”

“What?” Balthazar frowned. “Those were for the _safe.”_

“So?”

 

“......so?”

Seven stood, and shrugged. “So what harm could it do to try?”

At Balthazar’s skeptical expression, Seven straightened up authoritatively.

“‘The only necessity for success is the willingness to suffer 1000 failures’,” he stated solemnly.

“Who said that?”

“I did, just now.”

Balthazar scoffed, running over the numbers one more time in his mind.

14383421

Perhaps because he’d done it before, he remembered them easily enough, and kneeled by the coffin.

14383421

He typed the numbers in, and hit the Enter key.

“Wha--”

Instantly, the lid flew open, and a familiar face appeared.

                       _“Duo!”_

They both cried at once, her head twitching back and forth between them.

“S-seven?! --and Balthazar?” They helped Duo to her unsteady feet and out of the open coffin, leading her to a pew to sit. “W-where’s everyone else?”

 

* * *

 

“Do you remember what happened?” Seven asked Duo, after he and Balthazar had finished their half of the story.

“No? --well, sort of,” she answered, slowly rubbing her arm as she spoke. “I went into one of my rooms to search and someone - Zero, I guess - threw in another one of those gas grenades.”

“Like when we were kidnapped,” Balthazar frowned, chin resting on his steepled hands.

“Yeah, exactly,” Duo nodded. “I just woke up now in that... that... coffin? Really?”

“Really.”

Duo pulled a face, then stood abruptly. “Okay, let’s get back upstairs. If we can’t follow Ace, then we should go find Quatre and the others.”

Balthazar and Seven, via silent, mutual understanding, had not mentioned Quatre’s murder. Balthazar glanced uneasily at Seven, who stood and drew a long breath.

“Hold on,” he said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out

“Quatre found our ‘captain’s’ bracelet behind Door 1,” Seven told Duo.

“You mean a...0 bracelet?”

“Right,” said Seven. “Not much use to Balthazar and I, but now...”

0 + 2 + 7 = 9

Indeed, Duo was still wearing her number 2 bracelet. Her face brightened for the first time since she awoke, and she waved jauntily in Balthazar’s direction.

“See ya!”

“What?! Hey-!” Balthazar stepped forward, only for his so-called comrades to laugh.

“We _do_ need to go after Ace if we can,” Seven sobered up quickly and spoke, “but more importantly, we need to know if this bracelet even means what it says.”

“You think it might not work?” asked Duo. “Or...it might not actually be 0?”

“Seems rather convenient, doesn’t it?”

“Good call,” Duo nodded emphatically and turned, feeling her way along the row of pews towards the back of the room.

“Hmmm,” Balthazar followed slowly. “Then again, there was a loaded _gun_ behind Door 6. Maybe a genuine 0 bracelet was _your_ trump card.”

“Makes you wonder what was behind Door 2, doesn’t it?” Seven brought up the rear and waved the 0 bracelet over the RED.

Somewhat to Balthazar’s surprise, an asterisk did appear. Duo pressed her hand to the scanner, grabbing the lever as Seven did the same.

She wrenched it down

and a harsh buzz told them off.

“‘Error’,” Seven read.

“Well, it _scanned,_ so...” Duo pressed her palm to the panel and motioned to Balthazar. “Try it with me.”

Balthazar scanned himself, and Seven waved the bracelet over once again.

“If _this_ works,” Duo grabbed the lever, “then it’s another 2.”

“‘Error’,” Balthazar sighed, waving his hand over the panel once more. “Seven?”

“Right.” Seven scanned both his bracelets, and Duo pulled the lever.

The doors swung open with a long groan...

            ...and shut nine seconds later as they all did the math.

“Then it’s 6,” murmured Duo.

“Not a trump card after all,” added Seven. “Just a trick.”

“No, this works perfectly,” Duo insisted. “Now we can all go after Ace!”

“We can?”

Duo stretched out her left arm, and if Balthazar and Seven hadn’t known better, they would’ve thought she were breaking her hand. With several soft _*snaps*,_ she folded her thumb into her palm and simply...slipped off her bracelet, tossing it onto the floor.

“Travel mode,” she smirked. _"My_ trump card.”

 

* * *

 

They took the long hall at top speed, having wasted enough time in the chapel, as though Lotus’ life weren’t at stake. While Balthazar couldn’t say how he’d get back to Castiel now, he knew they had to _run._

The hallway ended save for a single door on its right, and they flew down a long, long flight of stairs, seemingly headed into the very bowels of the ship itself.

They pulled up short in a wide room, the metal of the floors and walls mixed with black, as though the room had been scorched.

To the right was an enormous sliding door, lined with yellow-and-black warning tape.

_“Incinerator?”_ Balthazar read off a plaque above the door.

“There’s a lever to the side, right?” Duo felt around frantically. “C’mon, help!”

She was right, and she wrenched it down as soon as she found it.

The metal door ground open.

The enormous domed room - the _incinerator -_ held several doors, including

another 9.

Balthazar was so struck by it he almost didn’t notice the people ahead: Ace, and - thank God - Lotus, still at gunpoint but very much alive.

Their eyes - Lotus’ quite shocked, Ace’s tighter, inscrutable - followed Duo closely as the three rushed towards them. No one had a chance to speak before a siren blared and a cold, mechanical voice sounded out around them.

 

_“Warning:_

_Emergency incineration command has been acknowledged.”_

_“Incineration will commence in...9 minutes. Please evacuate the incinerator immediately.”_

 

The artificial light turned red, the siren blaring on even as the speaker died.

“I’m curious,” Ace spoke, seemingly undisturbed by the change in atmosphere. “How did you three manage to open the other 9 door? I would guess you had used Quatre’s bracelet, but I see you aren’t wearing one at all.”

He spoke to Duo, who frowned, her head inclined as though to hear Ace better.

“Quatre’s...bracelet? Why would we have that?”

“...you don’t know?” Ace’s cold smile widened as he understood. “Ah, they didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me _what?”_

“Keep your _goddamn_ mouth shut, Ace!” Balthazar snapped, but Ace did not so much as blink.

“She's dead,” he said simply. "I killed her."

 

_“Warning: automatic incineration will take place in...7 minutes.”_

 

Duo said nothing for a moment, the robotic announcement cutting through the silence as she slowly tilted her head the other way, one eyebrow raised as though, perhaps, she had misheard.

“Oh,” her eyes slowly blinked open. “Is that right?”

“I’m afraid I had no choice,” Ace said without a hint of remorse. “I couldn’t know what you might have told her, you see.”

“Sure, I get it,” Duo’s voice was odd, constrained, as though wavering just under the surface. “I’m going to kill you, too, you know.”

“Oh,” Ace’s mouth twitched into a smirk as he silently pointed the revolver at Duo, “...is that right?”

“Duo _don’t,_ he has a _gu--!”_

Duo lunged, much too fast for Seven to catch her

 

_*BANG!*_

 

but, of course, the gun was faster. Duo’s body snapped back, and she crumpled to the floor.

 

_“Warning: automatic incineration will take place in...5 minutes.”_

 

Firing the shot had loosened Ace’s grip on Lotus’ arm, and she made a sudden dash for the others. Ace belatedly turned his attention to them, stepping forward over Duo and raising the revolver to their heads.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sighed impatiently. “We’re only four people here. Combining our digital roots of 9 will get us through this door and out. Go on and verify, all of you.”

He nodded to the RED by the large door behind him, but the others merely stood, frozen in place

[ ♫ ](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByB--9sGDj4CLU5wVHNKczc2Znc)

...watching as Duo rose like a ghost

 

                           and lunged.

Her bloodied hands closed on Ace’s throat. With a sharp twist, she slammed him to the ground, pinning him tightly.

 

_*BANG!*_

 

The bullet tore through her throat, blood spraying and drenching their clothes.

            Duo spat a mouthful in Ace’s face.

 

_“Warning: automatic incineration will take place in...3 minutes.”_

 

“....g-go...” Duo rasped, her head twitching towards the others as she held Ace down with incredible strength. The gun fell from his hand as he struggled.

He looked terrified.

Seven stepped forward urgently.

“I’ll carry you-” he insisted. “You don’t have to die in here, hurry!”

Duo merely shook her head.

_“Why?!”_ Lotus cried.

Slowly, Duo smiled.

“..I’m...taking him to hell with me...”

 

_“Warning: automatic incineration will take place in...1 minute. Please evacuate the incinerator immediately.”_

 

For just a moment, Duo’s smile wavered.

 

“...m-maybe then... my sister can forgive me...”

 

There was no time left. The others turned and ran, nearly slamming into the wall outside as the incinerator doors slid shut behind them

 

_“Gates 2 and 3 are locked down. Commencing incineration.”_

 

and the room went up in flames.

  



	7. SAFE

Balthazar leaned heavily against the wall, unsure whether he could stay upright without it.

Seven stood some distance away, his hands deep in his pockets as he stared at the floor.

Only Lotus had not left the incinerator door, peering through the window, perhaps hoping this had all been one final, horrific trick of Zero’s.

Seven approached her quietly and handed her his handkerchief.

“...where you are going?” he asked, watching Balthazar as he slowly made his way down the hall.

“There was a, um...” Balthazar cleared his throat and gestured vaguely ahead. “We passed an elevator...on the way here. I...think it connects to C Deck.”

There was no need to explain further. Seven and Lotus both nodded tiredly to him.

“...just hurry back,” murmured Lotus.

 

* * *

 

Balthazar threw open the doors to the large hospital room

           ...but it was empty.

He flew down the long hall as fast as he could. He knew - he was _sure -_ Cass and Santa had simply followed the others, as promised, but

but even so

 

Balthazar ran faster.

Balthazar flung open the chapel door--

and stopped dead in his tracks.

                       _“June!”_

Cass was alone, and not moving. He sat doubled over in a pew, his head resting on the bench in front of him.

Balthazar hurried to his side and shook his shoulder.

“June-!” he whispered sharply.

Balthazar sat next to him and leaned in close.

“Cass? Cassie, please--”

Cass twitched, and slowly raised his head. He smiled.

“..Balthazar...”

“Oh my _God-”_ Balthazar let out a long, shaky sigh and leaned back in the pew. “I’m so relieved...”

Cass laughed, very quietly, and rubbed his eyes. Balthazar put an arm around his shoulders.

“Where’s Santa?” he asked.

“She was worried you’d come back and pass us,” Cass’ voice was hoarse, “so she went back to C Deck.”

“I _was_ there,” Balthazar laughed. “I must have passed her anyways. ...she _will_ come back here, right?”

Cass nodded, resting his head on Balthazar’s shoulder. Balthazar reached up to touch his cheek and nearly jumped.

“You’re _freezing_ now, what--?!”

Cass said nothing, pushing himself upright and staring at his sleeves as he tugged them over his hands. His skin, his lips, were almost colourless, his eyes dull and slightly wet.

“Santa...” Balthazar paused, “...she thought perhaps Zero had...had poisoned you, but... Do you know...? Are you sick?”

“.....”

Castiel didn’t look up.

“...you know,” he whispered, “I really am...so happy to see you again... I’m even happy we...could spend this time together...”

He paused, shaking his head. “I’m s-sorry, I know that’s wrong, I just-... there’s so much, that I, I wanted to do with you, so much time I wanted to have with you, but now...”

“Cass...” A deep chill passed through Balthazar’s body. His tongue felt frozen, and would not let him ask.

_Cass..._

            _...are you..._

_No,_ thought Balthazar. It didn’t matter now. He wrapped his arms around Castiel and pulled him close.

“We can still have it, Cass, all the time you want-- _whatever_ you want,” he promised, his lips pressed to Cass’ head. “I’ve missed you so much, Cassie...”

Balthazar kissed his hair. “I love you, you know.”

Cass raised his head, a few tears falling down his cheeks as he nodded.

“I love you, too...” he managed a smile, his head falling back onto Balthazar’s shoulder. “...I really am... happy...”

Far away, a clock began to chime.

 

4...

 

                                                       5...

 

...6.

 

Their time was up.

“We have to go--” Balthazar’s hand trembled against Cass’ shoulder as he tensed. “We have to find Santa and--”

He half stood, but Cass did not follow, making only a faint sound as his head fell forward.

Quickly, Balthazar lifted him in his arms and made for the door.

 

_“Game over.”_

 

Balthazar’s body turned to ice as the crackle of static filled the air.

 

_“You chose the wrong path. The loser has been decided.”_

 

“God _damn_ you! Where are you?!” Balthazar shouted at nothing, twisting his neck for the source of the voice.

 

            A door clicked softly shut.

“Ah--!” Gently, Balthazar set Castiel back down on the pew. “That was Santa, that _must’ve--”_

His legs were shaking violently. Balthazar leaned in close to Cass’ ear.

“I’ll be _right_ back, I promise.”

Cass managed a single nod.

Balthazar burst out of the chapel door, but there was no one.

            _“Santa?!”_

he called, and looked around, the eerie silence prickling coldly at the back of his neck. He shivered and hurried back into the chapel

 

“...C-Cass...?”

                       but the room was completely, utterly empty.

“ohGod--oh God--”

Balthazar fell to his knees. He searched the floor. He searched the coffin. He threw all his weight against the doors, but none of them yielded.

Their time was up.

            Cass was gone.

_\--how--?! where--?! oh God, please--_

 

                       _“WHERE ARE YOU?!”_

 

he screamed, but not for Castiel.

 

                       “GOD _DAMN_ YOU, I HAVE _NOT_ LOST! GIVE HIM _BACK!!”_

 

His heart hammered in his chest as he held his head.

 

_“You misunderstand.”_

 

There was no speaker to be seen, but the voice persisted.

 

_“I... am the one who has lost.”_

 

“What the _hell_ does that mean?!” Balthazar cried, trying to stand and falling back on empty legs. He gasped for air, scrambling, desperate

but the speaker had fallen silent, replaced with a gentle hissing

                       and the     

                                  smell

   

   

                                                                   of        

                                                                                         a

 

                                                                                                                                             familiar

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                       white

 

 

 

 

                                        smoke                      

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **PART TWO** is [HERE.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15036530/chapters/34858442)
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic and would like to share it, please reblog [**this tumblr post,**](https://everymeloveseveryyou.tumblr.com/post/175185029629/9-strangers-awaken-aboard-a-ship-out-to-sea-9) which includes my promotional cover art, or check out my [**Meet the Players**](https://everymeloveseveryyou.tumblr.com/tagged/u:%20999:%20meet%20the%20players) series for individual characters. WIPs and any other future bonus materials can also be found [**on my blog.**](https://everymeloveseveryyou.tumblr.com/tagged/u:%20999)
> 
> Thank you for reading! **Any feedback is hugely appreciated!**


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